LIBRARY 

kUnrv«r$rty  of  California* 

IRVINE 


140  7. 


* 


MAMELONS  AND  UNGAVA 


£egenb  of  tlje 


W.  H!' H?*MURRAY. 


BOSTON : 
DE    WOLFE,     FISKE     &     CO. 

365  WASHINGTON  STREET. 


To  THAT  American  who  knows  and  loves  the  Legendary 
Lore  of  his  native  land,  and  appreciates  what  I  would  fain 
do  for  it  if  I  were  able ;  who,  distinguished  by  the  bright- 
ness of  his  wit,  the  gentleness  of  his  nature,  and  his  love 
of  polite  letters,  is  beloved  by  all  who  know  him  ;  to 

Stefoart,  Jr.,  ©.€.£.,  D.  iLftt.,  JF.£.@.^ ., 

of  Quebec,  I  inscribe  this  Tale  of  MAMELONS.    • 

THE  AUTHOR. 
BURLINGTON,  Vx.,  1890. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

ARGUMENT       i 

I.     THE  TRAIL 7 

II.     THE  FIGHT  AT  MAMELONS    ....       45 

III.  THE  MOTHER'S  MESSAGE        .        .        .        .91 

IV.  LOVE'S  VICTORY     .        .        .        .        .        .124 

V.     AT  MAMELONS 155 


AUTHOR'S   PREFACE. 


T  HAVE  for  some  years  felt  that  the  con- 
nection of  the  old  races  with  the  North 
American  Continent,  the  signs  and  proofs  of 
whose  presence  are  to  be  found  almost  every- 
where, and  nowhere  so  frequently  as  on  the 
St.  Lawrence,  afforded  material  for  entertain- 
ing authorship.  Prompted  by  this  feeling,  I 
have,  during  these  several  years  past,  been 
working  at  certain  pieces  of  composition,  of 
which  this  bit  of  romance  is  a  fair  sample. 

If  it  shall  so  far  please  the  reading  public 
that  its  publisher  shall  not  lose  money  by  his 
venture  —  for  letters  in  our  time  have  no 


IV  PREFACE. 

patronage  save  from  the  hope  of  selfish 
gain  —  I  shall,  later  on,  print  others  like  to 
it.  But  if  it  fail,  as  it  quite  likely  will,  to 
bring  him  commercial  profit,  then  they  will 
be  forgotten  as  this  one  will,  until  I  better 
them,  or  they  come  to  a  better  time. 

W.   H.   H.   MURRAY. 
BURLINGTON,  VT.,  Jan.  7,  1887. 


INTRODUCTION. 


TV  yr  Y  publishers  have  requested  me  to  pre- 
pare  a  brief  statement  concerning  my 
literary  work,  especially  that  portion  of  it 
relating  to  the  character  known  as  John  Nor- 
ton the  Trapper  —  and  the  stories  called  the 
"  Adirondack  Tales."  They  represent  that 
there  is  an  unusual  curiosity  and  interest  on 
the  part  of  many  touching  this  matter,  and 
that  a  brief  statement  from  me,  as  the  author 
of  them,  will  please  many  and  interest  all  who 
read  my  works. 

I   know  that  many  thousands  of  people  do 
feel    in    this   way,    for    my   mails    for    several 


VI  INTRODUCTION. 

years  have  brought  me  almost  daily  a  most 
agreeable  correspondence  concerning  not  only 
the  character  of  John  Norton  the  Trapper, 
but  the  general  scope  and  characteristics 
of  my  literary  work ;  and  because  of  this 
personal  knowledge  I  do  the  more  cheer- 
fully comply  with  my  publishers'  request,  and 
will,  now  and  here,  set  down  as  briefly  as  I 
may  what  seems  likely  to  be  of  interest  to 
those  who  read  this  volume. 

The  first  volume  ever  published,  of  my 
writing,  was  by  the  house  of  Ticknor  &  Fields, 
in  1868,  I  think,  and  had  for  its  title  "Murray's 
Adventures  in-  the  Wilderness."  This  was  the 
book  which  first  brought  the  Adirondacks  to 
popular  notice,  and  did  so  much  to  advertise 
that  now  famous  region  to  the  sporting  and 
touring  classes  of  the  country.  The  notice- 


INTRODUCTION:  vii 

able  thing  as  to  this  volume  is  that  it  was 
not  prepared  by  me  for  publication,  and  while 
writing  the  several  chapters  I  had  no  idea 
that  they,  or  anything  I  should  ever  write, 
would  be  published.  I  was  then  in  the  cleri- 
cal profession,  and  was  stationed  at  Meriden, 
Conn.  I  had  at  this  time  a  habit  of  compos- 
ing each  day,  when  my  duties  permitted  me 
the  leisure,  some  bits  of  writing  wholly  apart 
from  my  profession  and  work.  They  were  of 
the  nature  of  exercises  in  English  composi- 
tion, and  had  no  other  interest  to  me  than 
the  mental  refreshment  it  gave  me  to  write 
them,  and  the  hope  that  the  doing  of  them 
would  assist  me  to  improve  my  style  in  ex- 
pression. They  were  constructed  slowly  and 
rewritten  many  times,  until  they  were  as  sim- 
ple and  accurate  as  to  the  use  of  words  as  I 


Vlii  INTRODUCTION. 

could  make  them.  I  enjoyed  the  work  very 
much,  and  the  composition  of  those  little  bits 
of  description  and  humor  delighted  me  prob- 
ably more  than  they  ever  have  the  readers 
of  them.  By  an  accident  of  circumstances 
they  were  printed  in  the  Meriden  Recorder, 
and,  beyond  pleasing  a  few  hundreds  of  local 
readers,  made  no  reputation  for  themselves 
whatever.  At  least,  I  never  heard  of  them 
or  gave  them  any  thought.  It  was  owing  to 
James  T.  Fields  that  their  merit,  such  as  they 
had,  was  discovered,  and  that  they  were  given 
in  volume  form  to  the  world.  Of  the  recep- 
tion the  little  book  met  with  at  the  hands  of 
the  public,  I  need  not  speak.  As  to  it  I 
know  no  one  was  more  surprised  than  I  was. 
It  made  the  Adirondacks  famous,  and  gave 
me  a  nom  de  plume  which  has  almost  over- 


INTRODUCTION.  ix 

shadowed  the  name  I  was  christened  with. 
What  pleases  me  most  as  to  it  is  the  thought 
that  it  helped  to  introduce  healthier  fashions 
of  recreation,  and  brought  thousands  into  close 
and  happy  connection  with  Nature. 

Of  several  volumes  of  sermons  that  were 
published  while  I  was  in  the  clerical  profes- 
sion I  make  no  mention,  for  I  do  not  regard 
them  as  literary  productions.  They  represent 
only  a  temporary  popular  demand,  and  as 
compositions  only  the  low  average  possible 
to  an  overworked  man,  compelled  by  his 
duties  to  do  too  much  to  do  anything  well. 

The  volume  known  as  the  "  Perfect  Horse" 
was,  I  believe,  with  the  exception  of  Hiram 
Woodruff's  little  volume,  the  first  attempt  made 
by  an  American  author  to  teach  the  breeders 
of  the  trotting  horse  in  this  country  the  true 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

principles  and  correct  methods  of  equine  prop- 
agation. It  had  a  large  sale,  and,  I  have  rea- 
son to  think,  helped  the  country  to  needed 
knowledge.  To  me  it  only  stood  for  years 
of  wide  and  close  studentship  of  the  ques- 
tion, and  a  benevolent  endeavor. 

The  prompting  motive  in  the  preparation 
of  "  Daylight  Land"  was  this  :  The  little  book 
"Adventures  in  the  Wilderness"  was  published 
in  1868,  I  think,  and  under  circumstances  such 
as  I  have  explained.  I  had  no  thought  at 
that  time  of  becoming  an  author.  The  several 
chapters  of  that  little  volume  were  written  as 
exercises  in  composition.  I  was,  at  the  writ- 
ing of  them,  only  some  twenty-six  years  old. 
I  knew  little  of  life  or  nature,  and  absolutely 
nothing  of  what  literary  balance  and  fitness 
mean.  My  knowledge  of  woodcraft  was  then 


INTRODUCTION,  XI 

slight,  of  the  American  Continent  slighter  yet. 
Naturally  the  book,  because  of  the  fame  it 
won,  became,  as  years  passed,  my  knowledge 
grew  apace,  and  my  power  of  expression 
ripened,  a  regret  to  me.  It  did  not  in  any 
sense  represent  me  as  an  author.  This  feel- 
ing was  shared  by  others  who  have  regard  for 
my  writings,  especially  along  the  lines  of  de- 
scription and  entertainment ;  and  I  was  urged 
to  compose  a  volume  of  the  same  general 
character  as  my  first  little  book,  that  should 
be  a  fairer  and  happier  expression  of  myself 
as  an  author,  in  the  lighter  moods  of  com- 
position. It  may  interest  some  to  learn  — 
especially  young  authors  and  literary  folk  — 
that  "Daylight  Land"  had  for  its  prompting 
cause  the  feeling  that  it  was  not  fit  for  me 
to  be  permanently  represented  in  descriptive 


xii  INTRODUCTION. 

writing  and  in  composition  of  the  lighter  sort, 
by  that  little  book  that  has  gone  so  far  and 
done  so  much  of  good  in  many  ways,  but 
which,  because  of  the  reasons  stated,  has  al- 
ways been  extremely  unsatisfactory  to  me. 

I  will  now  come  directly  to  the  character 
of  John  Norton  the  Trapper  and  the  "Adiron- 
dack Tales." 

I  was  once  at  a  luncheon  at  which  Mr. 
James  T.  Fields  presided.  Several  clever 
literary  men  of  more  or  less  prominence 
were  present.  Mr.  Emerson  was  there,  and 
in  answer  to  the  query,  "What  makes  a  story 
a  great  story,"  said :  "A  story  which  will  make 
the  average  reader  laugh  and  cry  both  is  a 
great  story,  and  he  who  writes  it  is  a  true 
author."  The  definition  struck  me,  when  I 
heard  it,  as  a  very  proper  one  ;  and  it  has 


INTRODUCTION.  xiii 

influenced    me   in   my  choice   of   subjects    and 
methods  of  treatment  ever  since. 

Another  question  discussed  at  that  table 
was  this  :  "  Why  must  the  feminine  element 
be  introduced  so  constantly  ? "  or,  as  one  of 
the  witty  lunchers  phrased  it,  "  Why  must 
every  author  forever  introduce  a  woman  into 
his  story  ?  " 

This  was  discussed  at  length,  all  assuming 
that  such  necessity  did  exist. 

I  had  not  engaged  in  the  spirited  talk,  being 
well  content  to  listen.  This  Mr.  Fields  noted, 
and  insisted  on  "  Parson  Murray" — as  he 
facetiously  called  me  —  giving  his  views.  I 
replied  that  I  would  sooner  keep  quiet,  espe- 
cially as  I  did  not  agree  with  the  verdict  of 
the  table.  This  attracted  a  surprised  atten- 
tion, and  I  was  compelled  to  say  "  that  I  did 


xiv  INTRODUCTION. 

not  see  the  need  of  introducing  a  woman  into 
every  story,  and  that  I  believed  a  story  meet- 
ing Mr.  Emerson's  definition  of  a  great  story, 
viz.,  one  which  would  make  the  readers  of  it 
laugh  and  cry  both,  could  be  written  without 
a  woman  appearing  in  it,  and  that  in  some 
masculine  natures  was  a  tenderness  as  deep, 
a  sympathy  as  sweet,  and  a  love  as  strong 
as  existed  in  woman."  And  I  added,  "  Mr. 
Emerson  has  forgotten  that  in  a  book  with 
which,  as  he  was  a  clergyman  for  years,  he 
is  perfectly  familiar,  there  is  a  picture  given 
of  two  men  who  '  loved  each  other  beyond 
the  love  of  women.' ' 

Not  to  dilate  further,  from  that  day  Mr. 
Fields  never  ceased  to  urge  me  to  "  attempt 
that  story,"  and,  being  most  friendly  to  me,  — 
and  to  what  young  person  with  any  talent 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

was  he  not  ever  a  friend  ?  —  he  would  say, 
"  I  tell  you,  Murray,  try  and  see  if  you  can 
write  that  story,  not  a  woman  or  the  hint  of 
one,  good  or  bad,  in  it ;  for  it  may  be  you 
might  succeed,  and  if  you  should,  you  know 
what  Emerson  said ;  and  I  would  like  to 
be  the  publisher."  Prompted  by  this  kindly 
thought  for  me,  and  moved  by  assisting  cir- 
cumstances, I  wrote  the  "  Story  of  the  Man 
Who  Didn't  Know  Much."  It  was  composed 
amid  the  pressure  of  journalistic  as  well  as 
clerical  labors,  by  being  dictated  to  a  type- 
writer, and  appeared  in  the  weekly  issues  of 
the  Golden  Rule,  a  journal  of  which  I  was 
editor  and  owner.  It  gave  great  satisfaction 
to  the  readers  of  the  paper,  and  increased 
its  circulation  appreciably.  Of  its  literary 
merit,  if  it  had  any,  the  readers  of  the  vol- 


XVI  INTRODUCTION. 

ume  can  judge.  The  pleasantest  thought  to 
me,  perhaps,  concerning  it,  was  the  fact  that 
Mr.  Fields  came  one  day  to  my  study,  and  in 
his  genial,  earnest  way  exclaimed,  "  Murray, 
you  have  done  what  you  said  could  be  done  ; 
you  have  written  a  story  up  to  the  level  of 
Emerson's  definition,  for  I  have  read  it  from 
beginning  to  end,  and  laughed  and  cried  over 
it  both."  It  is  doubtless  owing  to  this  story 
and  the  success  of  it,  more  than  to  any  other 
cause,  that  my  mind  was  turned  toward  liter- 
ature as  the  field  in  which  I  could  work  with 
the  greatest  pleasure  to  myself,  and  perhaps 
with  the  largest  resultant  benefit  to  mankind. 
The  character  of  the  Lad  was  sketched  with 
the  desire  to  illustrate  the  beauty  and  moral 
force  of  innocence  and  simplicity,  as  con- 
trasted with  great  mental  endowments.  It 


INTRODUCTION.  xvii 

was  from  listening  to  the  playing  of  the  great- 
est master  of  the  violin  in  modern  times,  Ole 
Bull,  that  I  conceived  the  description  of  the 
Lad's  violin  and  his  manner  of  playing  it 
at  the  ball.  The  great  violinist  expressed  to 
me  the  delight  the  reading  pf  the  passage 
gave  him,  and  jokingly  declared  that  he  en- 
joyed it  all  the  more  because  it  was  composed 
by  a  man  who  couldn't  play  a  note  himself! 

Of  John  Norton  —  and  this  must  stand  as 
answer  to  all  the  interrogations  that  have 
been  put  to  me  concerning  him  —  I  have 
this  to  say.  I  never  saw  any  such  man  as 
John  Norton  ;  never  saw  one  so  good  as  he 
is,  in  my  vision  of  him ;  never  saw  one  who 
even  suggested  him.  He  is  a  creation,  pure 
and  simple,  of  my  imagination.  But',  though 
I  never  saw  such  a  man,  he  nevertheless 


xviii  INTRODUCTION. 

stands  for  an  actual  type.  Big-bodied,  big- 
headed,  big-hearted,  wise,  humorous,  humane, 
brave,  he  types  to  me  the  old-fashioned  New 
England  man,  who,  having  lived  his  life  in 
the  woods,  has  had  developed  in  him  those 
virtues  and  qualities  of  head  and  heart,  of 
mind  and  soul,  in  harmony  with  his  life-long 
surroundings.  Through  him,  as  my  mouth- 
piece, I  tell  whatever  of  knowledge  I  have 
of  woodcraft,  whatever  appreciation  I  have  of 
Nature,  and  whatever  wisdom  I  may  have 
been  taught  by  my  communings  with  her  si- 
lence. This  is  all  I  know  of  John  Norton 
the  Trapper.  The  "  Story  that  the  Keg  told 
me "  was  composed  simply  to  introduce  the 
character  of  John  Norton  to  the  reader,  to 
present  him,  as  it  were,  to  the  reader's  eye,  and 
p--Spare  him  to  appreciate  his  characteristics. 


INTRODUCTION.  xix 

The  "  Adirondack  Tales,"  as  outlined  in  my 
mind,  consist  of  six  volumes,  three  of  which 
are  already  written  and  await  publication,  the 
other  three  I  hope  to  complete  within  the 
next  five  or  six  years.  The  Canadian  Idyls 
will  consist  also  of  six  volumes,  the  "  Doom 
of  Mamelons,"  "  Ungava,"  and  "  Mistassinni  " 
being  the  first  three.  In  them  I  treat  of  the 
myths  and  traditions  of  the  aboriginal  races 
of  America  as  located  especially  in  the  north- 
ern section  of  the  continent,  and  they  repre- 
sent my  best  effort.  It  is  not  likely  that 
much,  if  indeed  any  part,  of  what  I  may 
write  will  be  granted  a  permanent  place  in 
the  literature  of  my  country,  nor  am  I  stirred 
to  effort  by  any  ambition  or  dream  that  it 
may.  I  shall  be  well  satisfied  if,  by  what  I 
write,  some  present  entertainment  be  afforded 


XX  INTRODUCTION. 

the  reader :  a  love  of  nature  inculcated ;  and 
encouragement  given  to  a  more  manly  or 
womanly  life.  As  my  expectation  is  modest, 
I  am  the  more  likely,  perhaps,  to  live  long 
enough  to  see  some  small  part  of  it,  at  least, 
realized. 

W.  H.  H.  MURRAY. 
BURLINGTON,  VT. 


ARGUMENT. 


rT^HE  development  of  the  story  turns  upon 
the  working  of  an  old  Indian  prophecy 
or  tradition,  which  had  been  in  the  Lenni- 
Lenape  tribe,  to  the  effect,  that  when  an 
intermarriage  between  a  princess  of  their 
tribe  and  a  white  man  should  occur,  it  would 
bring  ruin  to  the  tribe,  and  cause  it  to  be- 
come extinct  at  Mamelons.  For  it  was  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Saguenay,  as  they  held,  that 
the  whites  first  landed  on  this  western  conti- 
nent. This  intermarriage,  or  "  cross  of  red 
with  white,"  had  occurred,  and  the  time  had 
nearly  come  when  the  last  of  the  race 


2  ARGUMENT. 

should,  in    accordance  with   the  old  prophecy, 
die   at   Mamelons. 

The  persons  introduced  into  this  tale  are 
John  Norton,  the  Trapper,  who  is  comrade 
and  bosom  friend  of  the  chief  of  the  Lenni- 
Lenape  ;  the  chief  himself,  who  is  dying  from 
an  old  wound  received  in  a  fight  at  Mame- 
lons, and  has  sent  a  runner  to  summon  the 
Trapper  to  his  bedside,  to  receive  his  dying 
message ;  a  very  beautiful  woman  of  that 
most  peculiar  and  ancient  of  all  known  peo- 
ples, the  Basques  of  Southern  Spain,  the 
last  of  their  queenly  line,  who  has  been  mar- 
ried in  France  by  the  chief's  brother,  and 
to  whom  a  daughter  has  been  born,  Atla,  the 
beautiful  heroine  of  the  story.  And,  in  addi- 
tion to  these,  is  an  old  chief  of  the  famous 
Mistassinni  tribe,  who  had  had  his  tongue  cut 


ARGUMENT.  3 

out  at  the  torture  stake  by  the  Esquimaux, 
from  whose  fury  he  had  been  rescued  by  a 
party  of  warriors,  headed  by  the  Trapper. 

At  Mamelons  in  a  great  fight,  fought  in 
the  darkness  and  terror  of  an  earthquake 
commotion,  the  chief  of  the  Lenni-Lenape 
had,  unknowingly,  slain  his  brother,  who, 
returning  from  France  with  his  young  Basque 
wife,  had  been  wrecked  on  the  coast  of 
Labrador,  and,  out  of  gratitude  to  the  Esqui- 
maux, who  had  treated  him  kindly,  he  joined 
their  ranks  as  they  marched  up  to  Mamelons 
to  the  great  battle.  Thus,  fighting  as  foes, 
unknown  to  each  other,  in  the  darkness  that 
enveloped  the  field,  he  was  killed  by  his 
brother,  having  seriously  wounded  him  in 
return. 

The  Basque  princess,  thus  widowed  by  the 


4  ARGUMENT. 

untimely  death  of  her  young  husband,  gave 
birth  to  Atla,  who  was  thus  born  an  orphan, 
and  under  doom  herself.  Her  mother,  soon 
after  the  birth  of  Atla,  was  rescued  from 
death  by  the  Trapper,  and  loved  him  with 
all  the  ardor  of  her  fervent  nature.  His 
affections  she  strove  and  hoped  to  win,  and 
would,  perhaps,  have  succeeded,  had  not 
death  claimed  her.  Dying,  she  left  her  love 
and  hopes  as  an  heritage  to  her  daughter, 
and  charged  her,  with  solemn  tenderness,  to 
win  the  Trapper's  affection,  and,  married  to 
him,  become  the  mother  of  a  mighty  race, 
in  whose  blood  the  beauty  and  strength  of 
the  two  oldest  and  handsomest  races  of  the 
earth  should  be  happily  mingled. 

The    chief,    knowing   of  her   wish,  and    the 
instructions    left     to    Atla    by    her    departed 


ARGUMENT.  5 

mother,  summons  the  Trapper  to  his  death- 
bed, to  tell  him  the  origin  of  the  doom,  and 
the  possibility  or  surety  of  its  being  avoided 
by  his  loving  and  marrying  Atla.  For,  by 
the  conditions  of  the  old  curse  it  was  pro- 
claimed when  spoken,  that  the  "  doom  shall 
not  hold  in  case  of  son  born  in  the  female 
line  from  sire  without  a  cross,"  viz. :  —  from  a 
pure-blooded  white  man.  The  Trapper  in  his 
humility  feels  himself  to  be  unworthy  of  so 
splendid  an  alliance,  and  resists  the  natural 
promptings  of  his  heart. 

But  at  last  the  beautiful  Atla  wins  him  to 
a  full  confession  ;  and  at  her  urgent  request, 
against  the  Trapper's  wish,  they  start  for 
Mamelons  to  be  married,  where,  before  the 
rite  is  concluded,  she  dies,  so  fulfilling  the 
old  prediction  of  her  father's  tribe. 


6  ARGUMENT. 

In  the  Basque  princess,  the  mother  of 
Atla,  the  author  has  striven  to  portray  an 
utterly  unconventional  woman,  natural,  bar- 
baric, original;  splendid  in  her  beauty,  and 
glorious  in  her  passions,  such  as  actually 
lived  in  the  world  in  the  far  past,  when 
women  were  —  it  must  be  confessed — totally 
unlike  the  prevalent  type  of  to-day.  In  her 
child,  Atla,  the  same  type  of  natural  woman- 
hood is  preserved,  but  slightly  sobered  in 
tone  and  shade  of  expression.  But  as  studies 
of  the  beautiful  and  the  unconventional  in 
womanhood,  both  are  unique  and  delightful. 

NOTE.  —  The  notes  which  have  been  connected  in 
explanation  of  certain  passages  of  the  story,  are  so 
peculiarly  interesting  and  suggestive  that  they  make  the 
reader  wish  that  the  author  had  extended  them  in 
fuller  exposition  of  that  "  lore  of  woods  and  waters 
and  of  antique  days "  with  which  he  is  so  familiar. 

PUBLISHERS. 


MAMELONS.1 

A  LEGEND    OF  THE   S AGUE  NAY. 


CHAPTER   I. 

THE   TRAIL. 

IT  was  a  long  and  lonely  trail,  the  southern 
end  of  which  John  Norton  struck  in  answer 
to  the  summons  which  a  tired  runner  brought 
him  from  the  north.  The  man  had  made  brave 
running,  for  when  he  reached  the  Trapper's 
cabin  and  had  placed  the  birch-bark  packet 
in  his  hands,  he  staggered  to  a  pile  of  skins 

1  Mamelons.     The  Indians'  name  for  the  mouth  of  the 
Saguenay,  and  signifies  the  Place  of  the  Great  Mounds. 

See  note  12. 

7 


8  MAMELONS. 

and  dropped  heavily  on  them,  like  a  hound 
which,  from  a  three-days'  chase,  trails  weakly 
to  the  hunter's  door,  spent  nigh  to  death.  So 
came  the  runner,  running  from  the  north,  and 
so,  spent  with  his  mighty  race,  dropped  as 
one  dead  upon  the  pile  of  skins. 

He  bore  the  death-call  of  a  friend,  whose 
friendship  had  been  tested  on  many  an  am- 
bushed trail  and  the  sharp  edge  of  dubious 
battle.  The  call  was  writ  on  bark  of  birch, 
thin  as  the  thinnest  silk  the  ancients  wove 
from  gossamer  in  the  old  days  when  weaving 
was  an  art  and  mystery,  and  not  a  sordid 
trade  to  earn  a  pittance  with,  traced  in  deli- 
cate letters  by  a  hand  the  Trapper  would  have 
died  for.  A  good  five  hundred  miles  that 
trail  ran  northward  before  it  ended  at  the 
couch  of  skins,  in  the  great  room  of  the 


MA  MELONS.  9 

great  house,  in  which  the  chief  lay  dying. 
And  when  the  Trapper  struck  it  he  struck 
it  as  an  eagle  strikes  homeward  toward  the 
cradle  crag  of  his  younglings,  when  talons 
are  heavy  and  daylight  scant.  He  drew  his 
line  by  the  star  that  never  sets,  and  little 
turning  did  he  make  for  rivers,  rapids,  or 
tangled  swamp  ;  for  mountain  slope  or  briery 
windfall.  He  drew  a  trail  no  man  had  ever 
trod  —  a  blazeless '  trail,  unmarked  by  stroke 

1  In  order  to  mark  the  direction  of  his  course  in 
trailing  through  the  woods  the  trailer  slashes  with  his 
axe  or  knife  the  bark  of  the  trees  he  passes,  by  which 
signs  he  is  able  to  retrace  his  course  safely,  or  follow  the 
same  trail  easily  some  future  time.  A  blazed  trail  is 
one  thus  plainly  marked.  A  blazeless  trail  is  one  on 
which  the  trailer  has  no  marks  or  "blazes"  to  run  by, 
but  draws  his  line  by  other  and  occult  signs,  which  tell 
him  in  what  direction  he  is  going  and  which  are  known 
only  by  those  initiated  in  the  mysteries  of  woodcraft. 


10  MA  MELONS. 

of  axe  or  cut  of  knife,  by  broken  twig  or 
sharpened  rod,  struck  into  mold  or  moss,  and 
by  its  angle '  telling  whence  came  the  trailer, 
whither  went  he,  and  how  fast.  From  earli- 
est dawn  till  night  thickened  the  woods  and 
massed  the  trees  into  a  solid  blackness,  he 
hurried  on,  straight  as  a  pigeon  flies  when 
homing,  studying  no  sign  for  guidance,  leav- 
ing none  to  tell  that  he  had  come  and  gone. 
He  was  at  middle  prime  of  life,  tough  and 
pliant  as  an  ashen  bough  grown  on  hill,  sea- 
soned in  hall,  sweated  and  strung  by  constant 
exercise  for  highest  action,  and  now  each  mus- 

1  Certain  tribes  of  Indians  north  of  the  St.  Lawrence 
left  accurate  record  of  their  rate  of  progress,  and  how 
far  they  had  come,  by  the  length  and  angle  of  the 
slanted  sticks  they  drove  here  and  there  into  the 
ground  as  they  sped  on.  The  Nasquapees  were  best 
known  as  practicing  this  habit. 


MAMELONS.  1 1 

cle  and  sinew  of  his  superb  and  superbly  con- 
ditioned frame  was  taut  with  tension  of  a 
strong  desire  —  to  reach  the  bedside  of  the 

o 

dying  chief  before  he  died.  For  the  message 
read  :  "  Come  to  me  quick,  for  I  am  alone 
with  the  terror  of  death.  The  chief  is  dying. 
At  the  pillar  of  white  rock,  on  the  lake,  a 
canoe,  with  oars  and  paddle,  will  be  waiting." 
The  Trapper  was  clad  in  buckskin  from  cap 
to  moccasins.  His  tunic,  belted  tight  and 
fringeless,  was  opened  widely  at  the  throat  for 
freest  breathing.  A  pack,  small,  but  rounded 
with  strained  fullness,  was  at  his  back.  His 
horn  and  pouch  were  knotted  to  his  side. 
In  tightened  belt  was  knife,  and,  trailing 
muzzle  down  and  held  reversed,  a  double 
rifle.  Stripped  was  the  man  for  speed,  as 
when  balanced  on  the  issue  of  the  race  hang 


1 2  MAMELONS. 

life  and  death.  As  some  great  ship,  caught 
by  some  sudden  gale  off  Anticosti  or  Dead 
Man's  Reef,  and  bare  of  sail,  stripped  to  her 
spars,  past  battures  hollow  and  hoarse-voiced 
as  death  and  ghastly  white,  and  -through  the 
damned  eddies  that  would  suck  her  down  and 
crush  her  with  stones  which  grind  forever 
and  never  see  the  light,  sharpening  their 
cuttings  with  their  horrid  grists,  runs  scud- 
ding ;  so  ran  the  strong  man  northward, 
urged  by  a  fear  stronger  than  that  of  wreck 
on  the  ghost-peopled  shore  of  deadly  St. 
Lawrence.  A  hound,  huge  of  size,  bred  to 
a  hair,  ambled  steadily  on  at  heel.  And 
though  he  crossed  many  a  hot  scent,  and 
more  than  once  his  hurrying  master  started 
a  buck  warm  from  his  nest,  and  nose  was 
busy  with  knowledge  of  game  afoot,  he  gave 


MAMELONS.  13 

no  whimper  nor  swerved  aside,  but,  silent, 
followed  on  in  the  swift  way  his  master  was 
so  hurriedly  making,  as  if  he,  too,  felt  the 
solemn  need  which  urged  the  trail  north- 
ward. Never  before  had  runner  faced  a 
longer  or  a  harder  trail,  or  under  high  com- 
mand or  deadly  peril  pushed  it  so  fiercely 
forward. 

Seven  days  the  trail  ran  thus,  and  still  the 
man,  tireless  of  foot,  hurried  on,  and  the  hound 
followed  silently  at  heel.  What  a  body  was 
his !  How  its  powers  responded  to  the  soul's 
summons  !  For  on  this  seventh  day  of  high- 
est effort,  taxing  with  heavy  strain  each  muscle, 
bone,  and  joint  to  the  utmost,  days  lengthened 
from  earliest  dawn  to  deepest  gloaming,  the 
strong  man's  face  was  fresh,  his  eye  was 
bright,  and  he  swung  steadily  onward,  with 


14  MA  MELONS. 

long,  swinging,  easy-motioned  gait,  as  if  the 
prolonged  and  terrible  effort  he  was  making 
was  but  a  morning's  burst  of  speed  for  healthy 
exercise. 

The  climate  favored  him.  October,  with  all 
its  glorious  colors,  was  on  the  woods,  and  the 
warm  body  of  the  air  was  charged  through 
and  through  with  cool  atmospheric  movements 
from  the  north.  It  was  an  air  to  race  for 
one's  life  in.  Soft  to  the  lungs,  but  filled 
to  its  blue  edge  with  oxygen  and  that  mystic 
element  men  call  ozone ;  the  overflow  of  God's 
vitality  spilled  over  the  azure  brim  of  heaven, 
whose  volatile  flavor  fills  the  nose  of  him  who 
breathes  the  air  of  mountains.  Favored  thus 
by  rare  conditions,  the  best  that  nature  gives 
the  trailer,  the  strong  man  raced  onward 
through  the  ripe  woods  like  an  old-time  run- 


MAMELOXS.  15 

ner   running    for    the    laurel    crown    and    the 
applause  of  Greece. 

It  was  nigh  sunset  of  the  seventh  day,  and 
the  Trapper  halted  beside  a  spring,  which 
bubbled  coldly  up  from  a  cleft  rock  at  the 
base  of  a  cliff.  He  cast  aside  his  hunting 
shirt,  baring  his  body  to  the  waist,  and  bathed 
himself  in  the  cool  water.  He  knelt  to  its 
mossy  rim  and  sank  his  head  slowly  down 
into  the  refreshing  depths,  and  held  it  there, 
that  he  might  feel  the  delicious  coolness  run 
thrilling  through  his  heated  body.  He  cast 
his  moccasins  aside  and  bathed  his  feet,  sore 
and  hot  from  monstrous  effort,  sinking  them 
knee  deep  in  the  cold  flowage  of  the  blessed 
spring.  Then,  refreshed,  he  stood  upon  the 
velvet  bank,  his  mighty  chest  and  back  pink 
as  a  lady's  palm,  his  strong  feet  glowing,  his 


1 6  MAMELONS. 

face  aflush  through  its  deep  tan,  while  the 
wind  dried  him,  and  the  golden  leaves  of  the 
overhanging  maples  fell  round  him  in  showers. 

Refreshed  and  strengthened,  he  reclothed 
himself,  relaced  his  moccasins  and  tightened 
belt,  but  before  he  broke  away  he  drew  the 
sheet  of  birch-bark  from  his  breast  and  read 
again  the  lines  traced  delicately  thereon. 

"  Yes,  I  read  aright,"  he  muttered  to  him- 
self; "the  writing  on  the  birch  is  plain  as 
ivy  on  the  oak,  and  it  says :  '  Come  to  me 
quick,  for  I  am  alone  with  the  terror  of  death. 
The  chief  lies  dying.  At  the  pillar  of  white 
rock,  on  the  lake,  a  canoe,  with  oars  and  pad- 
dle, will  be  waiting.' '  And  the  Trapper  thrust 
the  writing  back  to  its  place  above  his  heart 
and  burst  away  down  the  decline  that  led  to 
the  lake  at  a  run. 


M 'A  MELONS.  17 

"  I've  bent  the  trail  like  a  fool,"  he  mut- 
tered, as  he  reached  the  bottom  of  the  dip, 
"  or  the  lake  lies  hereaway,"  and  even  as 
he  spoke  the  waters  of  a  lake,  red  with 
the  red  flame  of  the  setting  sun,  gleamed 
like  a  field  of  fire  through  the  maple-trees. 
The  Trapper  dashed  a  hand  into  the  air  with 
a  gesture  of  delight,  and  burst  away  again  at 
a  lope  through  the  russet  bushes  and  golden 
leaves  that  lay  like  plucked  plumage,  ankle 
deep,  upon  the  ground  toward  the  lake, 
burning  redly  through  the  trees  not  fifty 
rods  beyond.  A  moment  brought  him  to  the 
shore,  bordered  thick  with  cedar  growths, 
and,  breaking  through  the  fragrant  branches 
with  a  leap,  he  landed  on  a  beach  of  silver 
sand,  and  lo !  to  the  left,  not  a  dozen  rods 
away,  washed  by  the  red  waves,  stood  the 


1 8  MAMELOXS. 

signal  rock,  fifty  feet  in  height,  and  from 
water  line  to  summit  white  as  drifted  snow. 

"  God  be  praised  !  "  exclaimed  the  Trapper, 
and  he  lifted  his  cap  reverently.  "  God  be 
praised  that  I  reckoned  the  course  aright  and 
ran  the  trail  straight  from  end  to  end.  For 
the  woods  be  wide  and  long,  and  to  have 
missed  this  lake  would  have  been  a  sorry  hap 
when  one  like  her  is  alone  with  the  dying. 
But  where  is  the  canoe  that  she  said  should 
be  here,  for  sixty  miles  of  water  cannot  be 
jumped  like  a  brook  or  forded  like  a  rapid, 
and  the  island  lies  nigh  the  western  shore, 
and  who  may  reach  it  afoot  ? "  And  he  ran 
his  eyes  along  the  sand  for  signs  to  tell  if 
boat  or  human  foot  had  pressed  it. 

He  searched  the  beach  a  mile  around  the 
bay,  but  not  a  sign  of  human  presence  could 


MAMELONS.  19 

be  found.  Then  nigh  the  signal  rock  he  sat 
upon  the  sand,  unloosed  his  pack,  and  from 
it  took  crust  and  meat,  of  which  he  ate,  then 
fed  the  hound,  sharing  the  scant  supper  with 
him  equally.  "  It  is  the  last  morsel,  Rover," 
said  the  Trapper  to  the  dog  as  he  fed  him. 
"It  is  the  last  morsel  in  the  pack,  and  you 
and  I  will  breakfast  lightly  unless  luck 
comes."  The  dog  surely  understood  the  mas- 
ter's saying,  for  he  rolled  his  hungry  eyes 
toward  the  pack  as  if  he  bitterly  sensed  the 
bitter  prophecy  ;  then  —  canine  philosopher 
as  he  was — he  curled  himself  amid  some 
dried  leaves  contentedly,  as  if  by  extra  sleep 
he  would  make  good  the  lack  of  food. 

"  Thou  art  wiser  than  men ! "  exclaimed 
the  Trapper,  looking  reflectively  at  his  canine 
companion,  now  snoring  in  his  warm  russet 


2O  MAMELONS. 

bed.  "  Thou  art  wiser,  my  dog,  than  men, 
for  they  waste  breath  and  time  in  bewailing 
their  hard  fortunes,  but  you  make  good  the 
loss  that  pinches  thee  by  holding  fast  and 
quickly  to  the  nearest  gain."  And  he  gazed 
upon  the  sleeping  hound  with  reflecting  and 
admiring  eyes. 

Then  slowly  behind  the  western  hills  sank 
the  red  sun.  The  fervor  faded  from  the 
water  and  the  lake  darkened.  The  winds 
died  with  the  day.  Gradually  the  farther 
shore  retired  from  sight,  and  the  distinguish- 
ing hills  became  blankly  black.  The  upper 
air  held  on  to  the  retreating  light  awhile,  but 
finally  surrendered  the  last  trace,  and  night 
held  all  the  world. 

Amid  the  gathering  gloom  upon  the  beach 
the  Trapper  sat  in  counsel  with  his  thoughts. 


MAMELONS.  2 1 

At  length  he  rose,  and  with  dry  driftage 
within  reach  kindled  a  fire.  By  the  light  of 
it  he  cut  some  branches  of  nigh  cedars,  and 
with  them  made  a  bed  upon  the  sand,  then 
cast  himself  upon  his  fragrant  couch.  Twice 
he  rose  and  listened.  Twice  renewed  the 
fire  with  larger  sticks.  At  last,  tired  nature 
failed  the  will.  The  toil  of  the  long  trail 
fell  heavily  on  him.  Slumber  captured  his 
senses  and  he  slept  the  sleep  of  sheer  ex- 
haustion. But  before  he  slept  he  muttered 
to  himself: 

"  She  said  a  canoe,  with  oars  and  paddle, 
should  be  here,  and  the  canoe  will  come." 

The  hours  passed  on.  The  Dipper  turned 
its  circle  in  the  northern  sky,  and  stars  rose 
and  set.  The  warm  shores  felt  the  coolness 
of  the  night,  and  from  the  water's  edge  a  soft 


22  MAMELONS. 

mist  flowed  and  floated  in  thin  layers  along 
the  cooling  sands.  The  logs  of  seasoned 
wood  glowed  with  a  steady  warmth  in  the 
calm  air.  The  fog  turned  yellow  as  it  drifted 
above  the  burning  brands,  so  that  a  halo 
crowned  the  ruddy  heat.  The  night  was  at 
its  middle  watch,  when  the  hound  rose  to 
his  feet  and  questioned  the  lake  with  lifted 
nose,  but  his  mouth  gave  no  signal.  If  one 
was  coming,  it  was  the  coming  of  a  friend. 
Ten  minutes  passed,  then  he  whined  softly, 
and,  walking  to  the  water's  edge,  waited  ex- 
pectant ;  not  long,  for  in  a  moment  a  canoe, 
moving  silently,  as  if  wind-blown,  came  float- 
ing toward  the  beach,  and  lodged  upon  it 
noiselessly,  as  bird  on  bough.  And  a  girl, 
paddle  in  hand,  stepped  to  his  side,  and, 
stooping,  caressed  his  head,  then  moved  to- 


MA  MELONS.  2$ 

ward  the  fire  and   stood   above   the   sleeping 
man. 

She  gently  stirred  the  brands  until  they 
flamed,  and  in  the  light  thus  made  studied 
the  strong  face,  bronzed  with  the  tan  of  the 
woods,  the  face  of  one  who  never  failed  friend 
nor  fought  foe  in  vain,  and  who  had  come  so 
far  and  swiftly  in  answer  to  her  call.  She  was 
of  that  old  race  who  lived  in  the  morning  of 
the  world,  when  giants  walked  the  earth1  and 
the  sons  of  God  married  the  daughters  of 
men.2  And  the  old  blood's  love  of  strength 
was  in  her.  She  noted  the  power  and  sym- 
metry of  his  mighty  frame,  which  lay  relaxed 

1  "There  were  giants  in  the  earth  in  those  days."  — 
GEN.  vi.  4. 

2  "  The  sons  of  God  saw  the  daughters  of  men  that  they 
were  fair ;  and  they   took  them  wives  of  all  which   they 
chose."  —  GEN.  vi.  2. 


24  MAMELONS. 

from  tension  in  the  graceful  attitude  of  sleep ; 
the  massive  chest,  broad  as  two  common 
men's,  which  rose  and  fell  to  his  deep  breath- 
ing ;  the  great,  strongly  corded  neck,  rooted 
to  the  vast  trunk  as  some  huge  oak  grown 
on  a  rounded  hill.  She  noted,  too,  the  large 
and  shapely  head,  the  thick,  black  hair,  closely 
cropped,  and  the  sleeper's  face  —  where  might 
woman  find  another  like  it  ?  —  lean  of  flesh, 
large  featured,  plain,  but  stamped  with  the 
seal  of  honesty,  chiseled  clean  of  surplus  by 
noble  abstinence,  and  bearing  on  its  front  the 
look  of  pride,  of  power  and  courage  to  face 
foe  or  fate.  Thus  the  girl  sat  and  watched 
him  as  he  slept,  stirring  the  brands  softly  that 
she  might  not  lose  sight  of  a  face  which  was 
to  her  the  face  of  a  god  —  such  god  as  the 
proudest  woman  of  her  race,  in  the  old  time 


MAMELONS.  25 

might,  with  art  or  goodness,  have  won  and 
wedded. 

Dawn  came  at  last.  The  blue  above  turned 
gray.  The  stars  shortened  their  pointed  fires 
and  faded.  The  east  kindled  and  flamed. 
Heat  flowed  westward  like  an  essential  oil 
hidden  in  the  pores  and  channels  of  the  air ; 
while  light,  brightly  clean  and  clear,  ran  round 
the  horizons,  revealing  its  own  and  the  love- 
liness of  the  world. 

Then  woke  the  birds.  Morning  found  a 
voice  sweet  as  her  face.  A  hermit  thrush 
sent  her  soft,  pure  call  from  the  damp  .depths 
of  the  dripping  woods.  A  woodpecker  sig- 
nalled breakfast  with  his  hammer  so  sturdily 
that  all  the  elfin  echoes  of  the  hills  merrily 
mimicked  him.  An  eagle,  hunting  through  the 
sky,  at  the  height  of  a  mile,  dropped  like  a 


26  MA  MELONS. 

plummet  into  the  lake,  and,  struggling  up- 
ward from  his  perilous  plunge,  heavily 
weighted,  lined  his  slow  flight  straight  toward 
his  distant  crag.  The  girl  rose  to  her  feet, 
and,  leaning  on  her  paddle,  for  a  moment 
gazed  long  and  tenderly  at  the  sleeper's  face, 
then  softly  breathed,  "John  Norton!" 

The  call,  low  as  it  was,  broke  through  the 
leaden  gates  of  slumber  with  the  suddenness 
and  effect  of  a  great  surprise.  Quick  as  a 
flash  he  came  to  his  feet,  and,  for  a  moment, 
stood  dazed,  bewildered,  his  bodily  powers 
breaking  out  of  sleep  quicker  than  his  senses, 
and  he  saw  the  girl  as  visitant  in  vision.  He 
stepped  to  the  wrater's  edge  and  bathed  his 
face,  and  turning,  freshened  and  fully  awake, 
saw  with  glad  and  apprehensive  eyes,  who 
stood  before  him,  and  tenderly  said: 


MAMELONS.  27 

1  Is  the  daughter  of  the  old  race  well  ? " 
"  Well,  well,  I  am,  John  Norton,"  answered 
the  girl,  and  her  voice  was  low  and  softly 
musical,  as  water  falling  into  water.  "  I  am 
well,  friend  of  my  mother  and  my  friend. 
And  the  chief  still  lives  and  will  live  till  you 
come,  for  so  he  bade  me  tell  you."  And  she 
reached  her  small  hand  out  to  him.  He  took 
it  in  his  own,  and  held  it  as  one  holds  the 
hand  of  child,  and  answered : 

"  I  am  glad.  Thou  comest  like  a  bird  in 
the  night,  silently.  Why  did  you  not  awake 
me  when  you  came  ? " 

"Why  should  I  wake  thee,  John  Norton?" 
returned  the  girl.  "  I  am  a  day  ahead  of  that 
the  chief  set  for  your  coming.  For  our  run- 
ner—  the  swiftest  in  the  woods  from  Mistas- 
sinni  to  Labrador  —  said:  'Twelve  suns  must 


28  MA  MELON'S. 

rise  and  set  before  my  words  could  reach 
thee,'  and  the  chief  declared :  '  No  living  man, 
not  even  you,  could  fetch  the  trail  short  of 
ten  days.'  He  timed  me  to  this  rock  him- 
self, and  told  me  when  I  would  come  nor 
wait  another  hour,  that  I  would  wait  by  the 
white  rock  two  days  before  I  saw  your  face. 
But  I  would  come,  for  a  voice  within  me 
said  —  a  voice  which  runs  vocal  in  our  blood, 
and  has  so  run  through  all  my  race  since 
the  beginning  of  the  world — this  voice  with- 
in kept  saying :  '  Go,  for  thou  shalt  find 
him  there!'  And  so  I,  hurrying,  came.  But 
tell  me  how  many  days  were  you  upon  the 
trail  ?  " 

"  I  fetched  the  trail  in  seven  days  from 
sun  to  sun,"  answered  the  Trapper,  modestly. 

"  Seven    days ! "    exclaimed    the   girl,    while 


MAMELOXS.  29 

the  light  of  a  great  surprise  and  admiration 
shone  in  her  eyes.  "  Seven  days !  Thou  hast 
the  deer's  foot  and  the  cougar's  strength,  John 
Norton.  No  wonder  that  the  war  chiefs  love 
you." 

And  then  after  a  moment's  pause : 

"  But  why  didst  thou  push  the  trail  so 
fiercely  ?  " 

"  I  read  your  summons  and  I  came,"  replied 
the  Trapper,  sententiously. 

The  girl  started  at  the  hearing  of  the 
words,  which  told  her  so  simply  of  her  power 
over  the  man  in  front  of  her.  Her  nostrils 
dilated,  and  through  the  glorious  swarth  of 
her  cheek  there  came  a  flush  of  deeper  red. 
The  gloom  of  her  eyes  moistened  like  glass 
to  the  breath.  Her  ripe  lips  parted  as  to 
the  passing  of  a  gasp,  and  the  full  form  lifted 


30  MAMELONS. 

as  if  the  spirit  of  passion  within  would  fling 
the  beautiful  frame  it  filled  upon  the  strong 
man's  bosom.  Thus  a  moment  the  sweet 
whirlwind  seized  and  shook  her,  then  passed. 
Her  eyes  drooped  modestly,  and  with  a  sweet 
humbleness,  as  one  who  has  received  from 
heaven  beyond  her  hope  or  merit,  she  simply 
said  : 

"  I  have  brought  you  food,  John  Norton. 
Come  and  eat." 

The  food  was  of  the  woods.  Bread  coarse 
and  brown,  but  sweet  with  the  full  cereal 
sweetness ;  corn,  parched  in  the  fire,  which 
eaten,  lingered  long  as  a  rich  flavor  in  the 
mouth  ;  venison,  roasted  for  a  hunter's  hun- 
ger, within  whose  crisp  surface  the  life  of 
the  deer  still  showed  redly ;  water  from  the 
lake,  drunk  from  a  cup  shaped  from  the  inner 


MAMELONS.  3 1 

bark  of  the  golden  birch,  whose  hollow  cur- 
vature still  burned  with  warm  chrome  colors. 
So,  on  the  cool  lake  shore,  in  the  red  light 
of  early  morn,  they  broke  their  fast. 

The  Trapper  ate  as  a  strong  man  eats 
after  long  toil  and  scant  feeding,  not  grossly, 
but  with  a  heartiness  good  to  see.  The  girl 
ate  little,  and  that  absently,  as  if  the  atoms 
in  her  mouth  were  foreign  to  her  senses  and 
no  taste  followed  eating. 

"You  do  not  eat,"  said  the  Trapper.  "The 
sun  will  darken  on  the  lower  hills  before  we 
come  to  food  again.  Are  you  not  hungry  ?  " 

"  Last  night  I  was  ahungered,"  answered 
the  girl,  musingly.  "  But  now  I  hunger  no 
more,"  and  her  face  was  as  the  face  of  a 
Madonna  holding  her  child,  full  of  a  plenti- 
ful and  sweet  content. 


32  AfAMELONS. 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,"  returned  the 
Trapper,  after  a  moment's  silence.  "  Your 
words  be  plain,  but  their  sense  is  hidden. 
Why  are  you  not  hungry  ?  " 

"  You  read  me  once  out  of  your  sacred 
books,  John  Norton,  that  man  does  not  live 
by  bread  alone,  but  by  every  word  that  pro- 
ceedeth  out  of  the  mouth,"  responded  the 
girl.  "I  knew. not  then  the  meaning  of  the 
words,  for  I  was  a  girl,  and  had  no  under- 
standing, and  the  words  were  old,  older  than 
your  books,  and  therefore  deeply  wise,  and 
I,  being  young,  did  not  know.  But  I  know 
now."  And  here  the  girl  paused  a  moment, 
hesitated  as  a  young  bird  to  leave  the  sure 
bough  for  the  first  time,  then,  rallying  cour- 
age for  the  deed,  gazed  with  her  large  eyes 
lovingly  into  his,  and  timidly  explained :  — 


MA  MELONS.  33 

"  I  am  not  hungry  John  Norton,  for  God 
has  fed  me  !  " 

To  the  tanned  cheek  of  the  Trapper  there 
rushed  a  glow  like  the  flush  to  a  face  of  a 
girl.  The  light  of  a  happy  astonishment 
leaped  from  his  eyes,  and  his  breath  came 
strongly.  Then  light  and  color  faded,  and 
as  one  vexed  and  heartily  ashamed  of  his 
vanity,  while  the  lines  of  his  face  tightened, 
he  made  harsh  answer : 

"Talk  no  more  in  riddles,  lest  I  be  a  fool 
and  read  the  riddle  awry.  Nor  jest  again  on 
matters  grave  as  life,  lest  I,  who  am  but 
mortal  man  and  slow  withal,  forget  wisdom 
and  take  thy  girlish  playfulness  for  earnest 
talk.  Nay,  nay,"  he  added  earnestly,  as  she 
rose  to  her  feet  with  an  exclamation  of  pas- 
sionate pain,  "  Say  not  another  word,  you 


34  MAMELONS. 

have  done  no  ill.  You  be  young  and  fanci- 
ful, and  I  —  I  be  a  fool  !  Come,  let  us  go. 
The  pull  is  long,  and  we  shall  need  the  full 
day's  light  to  reach  the  island  ere  night 
falls."  And,  placing  his  rifle  in  the  canoe, 
he  signaled  to  the  hound  and  seated  him- 
self at  the  oars.  The  girl  obeyed  his  word, 
stepped  to  her  place  and  pushed  the  light 
boat  from  the  sands  on  which  so  much  had 
been  received  and  so  much  missed.  Per- 
haps her  woman's  heart  foretold  that  love 
like  hers  would  get,  even  as  it  gave,  all  at 
last. 

The  house  was  large  and  lofty,  builded  of 
logs  squared  smoothly  and  mortared  neatly 
between  the  edges.  In  the  thick  walls  were 
deep  embrasures,  that  light  through  the  great 


MAMELONS.  35 

windows  might  be  more  abundant.  The 
builders  loved  the  sun  and  made  wide  path- 
ways for  its  entrance  everywhere.  The  case- 
ments, fashioned  to  receive  storm  shutters, 
were  proof  against  winter's  wind  and  lead 
alike.  In  the  steep  roof  were  dormer  win- 
dows, glassed  with  panes,  tightly  soldered  to 
the  sash.  At  either  end  of  the  great  house 
a  huge  chimney  rose,  whose  solid  masonry  of 
stone  stood  boldly  out  from  the  hewn  logs, 
framed  closely  against  its  mortared  sides.  A 
wide  veranda  ran  the  entire  length  of  the 
southern  side.  A  balustrade  of  cedar  logs, 
each  hewn  until  it  showed  its  red  and  fra- 
grant heart,  ran  completely  round  it.  Above 
posts  of  the  same  sweetly  odored  wood  — 
whose  fragrance,  with  its  substance,  lasts  for- 
ever—  was  lattice-work  of  poles  stripped  of 


36  MA  MELONS. 

their  birchen  bark,  and  snowy  white,  on 
which  a  huge  vine  ran  its  brown  tracery, 
enriched  with  bunches,  heavily  pendent,  of 
blue-black  grapes  —  that  pungent  growth  of 
northern  woods,  whose  odors  make  the  wind- 
ing rivers  sweet  as  heaven.  In  front,  a  nat- 
ural lawn  sloped  to  the  yellow  sands,  on 
which  the  waves  fell  with  soft  sound. 

Eastward,  a  widely  acred  field  showed  care- 
ful husbandry.  Garnet  and  yellow  colored 
pods  hung  gracefully  from  the  brown  poles. 
The  ripened  corn  showed  golden  through 
the  parted  husks,  and  beds  of  red  and  yel- 
low beets  patched  the  dark  soil  with  their 
high  colors.  The  solar  flower  turned  its 
broad  disk  toward  the  wheeling  sun,  while 
dahlias,  marigold,  and  hardy  annuals,  with 
their  bright  colors,  warmed  like  a  floral  camp- 


MAMELONS.  37 

fire  the  stretch  of  gray  stubble  and  pale  bar- 
ren beyond.  It  was  a  lovely  and  a  lonely 
spot,  graced  by  a  lordly  home,  such  as  the 
wealthy  worthies  builded  here  and  there  in 
the  great  wilderness  for  comfort  and  for 
safety  in  the  old  savage  days  when  feudal 
lords  '  made  good  their  claim  to  forest  seign- 
iories with  sword  and  musket,  and  every 
house  was  home  and  castle. 

The  canoe  ran  lightly  shoreward.  The 
beach  received  its  pressure  as  a  mother's 
bosom  receives  the  child  running  from  afar 
to  its  reception  —  yieldingly ;  and  on  the 

1  If  the  reader  will  recall  that  old  Canada,  viz.,  the 
Province  of  Quebec,  was  wholly  French  in  origin,  and 
that  its  organization  rested  on  the  feudal  basis,  the 
whole  territory  occupied  being  divided  not  into  towns 
and  counties,  but  into  seigniories. 


38  MA  MELONS. 

welcoming   sand    the   light   bark   rested.     The 
Trapper    stepped     ashore     and     reached     his 
hand    back    to    the    girl.       Her    velvet    palm 
touched    his,    rough    and    strong,    as    thistle- 
down, wind  blown,  the   oak    tree's   bark,  then 
nestled    and    stayed.      Thus    the    two    stood 
hand    in    hand,    gazing    up    the    sloping    lawn 
at   the   great   house,    the    broad,    bright    field 
and    the    circling   forest,   glowing  with  autum- 
nal   colors,    which    made    the    glorious    back- 
ground.     The    green    lawn,    the    great    gray 
house,  and  the  vast  woods  belting  it  around, 
brightly  beautiful,  made  such  a  landscape  pic- 
ture   as    Titian    would    have    reveled    in.      It 
stood,    this    mansion    of  the   woods,    this   wil- 
derness castle,   in    glorious    loneliness,   a   part 
and    centre    of    a    splendid    solitude,    beyond 
the   coming  and  going  of   men,  beyond  their 


MAMELONS.  39 

wars  and  peace,  the  creation  and  embodi- 
ment of  a  mystery  deep  as  the  woods  around 
it ;  a  strange,  astounding  spectacle  to  one 
who  did  not  know  the  history  of  the  forest. 

"It  is  a  noble  place,"  exclaimed  the  Trap- 
per, as  he  gazed  up  the  wide  lawn  at  the 
great  house,  and  swept  with  admiring  glance 
the  glorious  circle  of  the  woods  which  curved 
their  belt  of  splendor  round  it ;  "  it  is  a 
noble  place,  and  if  mortal  man  might  find 
content  on  earth,  he  might  find  it  here." 

"  Could  you,  John  Norton,  living  here,  be 
content?"  inquired  the  girl,  and  she  lifted  the 
splendor  of  her  eyes  to  his  strong,  honest 
face. 

"  Content,"  returned  the  Trapper,  inno- 
cently, "  why,  what  more  could  mortal  crave 
than  is  here  to  his  hand  ?  A  field  to  give 


40  MAMELONS. 

him  bread,  a  noble  house  to  live  in,  the 
waters  full  of  fish,  the  woods  of  game,  the 
sugar  of  the  maple  for  his  sweetening,  honey 
for  his  feasts,  and  not  a  trap  within  two  hun- 
dred miles.  What  more  could  mortal  man, 
of  good  judgment,  crave  ?  " 

"  Is  there  nothing  else,  John  Norton  ? " 
asked  the  girl. 

"  Aye,  aye,"  returned  the  Trapper,  "  one 
thing.  I  did  forget  the  dog.  A  hunter 
should  have  his  hound." 

A  shade  of  pain,  perhaps  vexation,  came 
to  her  face  as  she  heard  the  Trapper's 
answer.  She  withdrew  her  hand  from  his 
and  said :  "  Food,  fur,  and  a  house  are  not 
enough,  John  Norton.  A  dog  is  good  for 
camp  and  trail.  Solitude  is  sweet  and  the 
absence  of  wicked  men  a  boon.  But  these 


MA  MELONS.  41 

do  not  make  home  nor  heaven,  both  of 
which  we  crave  and  both  of  which  are  pos- 
sible on  earth,  for  the  conditions  are  possi- 
ble. The  chief  has  found  this  spot  a  dreary 
place  since  mother  died." 

"  Your  mother  was  an  angel,"  answered 
the  Trapper,  "  and  your  words  are  those  of 
wisdom.  I  have  thought  at  times  of  the 
things  you  hint  at,  and,  as  a  boy,  I  had  vain 
dreams,  for  nature  is  nature.  But  I  have  my 
ideas  of  woman  and  I  love  perfect  things. 
And  I  —  I  am  but  a  hunter,  an  unlearned 
man,  without  education,  or  house,  or  land, 
or  gold,  and  I  am  not  fit  for  any  woman 
that  is  fit  for  me !  " 

The  change  that  came  to  the  girl's  face 
at  the  Trapper's  words  —  for  he  had  spoken 
gravely,  and  through  the  honesty  of  his 


42  MAMELONS. 

speech  she  looked  and  saw  the  greatness 
and  humility  of  his  nature  —  was  one  to  be 
to  him  who  saw  it  a  memory  forever.  The 
shadow  left  it  and  its  dusky  splendor  was 
lighted  with  the  glow  of  a  blessed  assur- 
ance. This  man  would  love  her  !  This  man 
with  the  eagle's  eye,  the  deer's  foot,  the 
cougar's  strength,  the  honest  heart,  would 
love  her  !  This  man  her  mother  reverenced, 
her  uncle  loved,  who  twice  had  saved  her 
life  at  the  risk  of  his,  whose  skill  and  cour- 
age were  the  talk  of  a  thousand  camps, 
whose  simple  word  in  pledge  held  faster 
than  other's  oaths  —  this  man  into  whose 
very  bosom  her  soul  had  looked  as  into  a 
clean  place  —  this  man  would  love  her!  If 
heaven  be  what  good  men  say,  and  all  its 
bliss  had  been  pledged  to  her  when  she  lay 


MAMELONS,  43 

dying,  her  body  would  not  have  thrilled 
with  a  warmer  glow  than  rushed  its  sweet 
heat  through  her  veins  at  that  instant  of 
blessed  conviction.  Wait !  She  could  wait 
for  years,  but  she  would  win  him  —  win  him 
to  herself;  win  him  from  his  blindness,  which 
did  him  honor,  to  that  dazzling  light  in 
whose  glory  man  stands  but  once ;  but, 
standing  so,  sees,  with  a  glad  bewilderment, 
that  the  woman  he  dares  not  love,  because 
she  is  so  infinitely  better  than  he,  loves 
him!  Yes,  she  would  win  him — win  him 
with  such  sweet  art,  such  patient  approaches, 
such  seductiveness  of  innocent  passion,  slowly 
and  deliciously  disclosed,  that  he  should  never 
know  of  his  temerity  until,  thus  drawn  to 
her,  she  held  him  in  her  arms  irrevocably, 
in  bonds  that  only  cold  and  hateful  death 


44  MA  MELONS. 

could  part.  Through  all  her  leaping  blood 
this  blessed  hope,  this  sure,  sweet  knowl- 
edge flowed  like  spiced  wine.  This  man, 
this  man  she  worshipped,  he  would  love 
her !  It  was  enough.  Her  cup  ran  full  to 
the  brim  and  overflowed.  She  simply  took 
the  Trapper's  hand  again  and  said  : 

"  We  will  go  to  the  chamber  of  the  chief. 
His  eyes  will  brighten  when  he  sees  thy 
face." 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE    FIGHT   AT    MAMELONS.1 

"  TTwas  a  dreadful  fight,  John  Norton.  We 
went  into  it  a  thousand  warriors  on  a 
side,  and  in  either  army  were  twenty  chiefs 
of  fame.  We  fought  the  fight  at  Mamelons, 
where,  at  sunset,  we  met  the  Esquimaux,2 
coming  up  as  we  were  going  down.  The 
Montaignais  headed  the  war.  The  Moun- 

1  This  old  battle-ground  is  located  on  the  high  ter- 
races which  define  the   several  sand  mounds  now  stand- 
ing back  of  Tadousac. 

2  The    Esquimaux  were    numerous   and  very  warlike, 
and  at  one  time  had  pushed  their  conquests  clean  up  to 

the  Saguenay. 

45 


46  MAMELONS. 

taineers,1  whose  fathers'  wigwams  stood  at 
Mamelons,  had  fought  the  Esquimaux  a  thou- 
sand years,  and  both  had  wrongs  to  right. 
My  father  died  that  summer,  and  I,  fresh 
from  the  fields  of  France,  headed  my  tribe. 
You  know  how  small  it  was,  the  last  rem- 
nant of  the  old  Lenape  root,  but  every  man 
a  warrior.  I  knew  not  the  right  or  wrong 
of  it,  nor  did  I  care.  I  only  knew  our  tribe 
was  pledged  to  the  Nasquapees2  of  frozen 

1  The  Montaignais    Indians    held   the    country,    from 
Quebec    down   to   the   Esquimaux,    near    Seven    Islands, 
and  called  themselves  "  Mountaineers." 

2  The    Nasquapees    are   one  of   the  most   remarkable 
families  of  Indians  on  the  continent,  and  of   whom  but 
little  is  known.     Their  country  extends  from  Lake  Mis- 
tassinni  eastward  to  Labrador,  and  from  Ungava  Bay  to 
the   coast   mountains   of   the    St.    Lawrence.      They    are 
small    in   size,  fine   featured,  with  mild,   dark  eyes,  and 


MAMELUA'S.  47 

Ungava,  and  they  were  allies  of  the  -Moun- 
taineers, and  hence  the  fight  held  us  to  its 
edge.  That  night  we  slept  under  truce,  but 
when  the  sun  came  up  went  at  it.  I  see 
that  morning  now.  The  sun  from  out  the 
eastern  sea  rose  red  as  blood.  The  Nasqua- 
pees,  who  lived  as  atheists  without  a  Medi- 
cine man,  cared  not  for  this,  but  the  prophet 
of  the  Mountaineers  painted  his  face  and  body 

extremely  small  hands  and  feet.  The  name  Nasquapees 
—  Nasqupics  —  means  "  a  people  who  stand  straight." 
They  have  no  Medicine  man  or  Prophet,  and  hence  are 
called  by  other  tribes  atheists.  Their  sense  of  smell 
is  so  acute  that  it  rivals  the  dog's.  "  Spirit  rappings," 
and  other  strange  manifestations  peculiar  to  us  moderns, 
have  been  practised  immemorially  among  them,  and  car- 
ried to  such  a  shade  of  success  that  one  of  our  Boston 
se'ances  would  be  a  laughable  and  bungling  affair  to 
them.  Their  language  is  like  the  Western  Crees,  and 
their  traditions  point  to  a  remote  eastern  origin. 


48  MAMELONS. 

black  as  night,  tore  his  blanket  into  shreds, 
and  lay  in  the  sand  as  one  dead.  The  Nas- 
quapees  laughed,  but  we  of  the  mountains 
knew  by  that  dread  sign  that  our  faces  looked 
toward  our  last  battle.  We  made  it  a  brave 
doom.  We  fought  till  noon  upon  the  shift- 
ing sands,  nor  gained  an  inch,  nor  did  our 
foes,  when  suddenly  the  sun  was  clouded  and 
a  great  wind  arose  that  drove  the  sand  so 
thickly  that  it  hid  the  battle.  The  firing  and 
the  shouting  ceased  along  the  terrace  where 
we  fought,  and  a  great,  dread  silence  fell  on 
the  mighty  mounds,  save  when  the  fierce 
gusts  smote  them.  Thus,  living  and  dead, 
friend  and  foe,  we  lay  together,  our  faces 
plunged  into  the  coarse  gravel,  our  hands 
clutching  the  rounded  stones,  that  we  might 
breathe  and  stay  until  the  wind  might  pass. 


MAMELONS.  49 

And  such  a  wind  was  never  blown  on  man 
before,  for  it  was  hot  and  came  straight  down 
from  heaven,  so  that  our  backs  winced  as  we 
lay  flattened.  Thus,  mixed  and  mingled,  we 
clung  to  the  hot  stones,  while  some  crept  in 
beneath  the  dead  for  shelter.  So  both  wars 
clung  to  the  ground  for  an  hour's  space. 
Then,  suddenly  the  sun  rushed  out,  and 
shaking  sand  from  eyes  and  hair,  and  spit- 
ting it  from  our  mouths,  at  it  we  went  again. 
.  It  was  an  awful  fight,  John  Norton,  and  more 
than  once,  in  the  mad  midst  of  it,  smoke- 
blinded  and  sand-choked,  I  thought  of  you 
and  that  I  heard  your  rifle  crack." 

"  I  would  to  God  I  had  been  there  !  "  ex- 
claimed the  Trapper,  and  he  dashed  his  huge 
hand  into  the  air,  as  if  cheering  a  line  of  battle 
on,  while  his  eyes  blazed  and  his  face  whitened. 


50  M.'iMELOA'S. 

"  I  would  to  God  you  had  been  !  "  returned 
the  chief.  "  For  whether  one  lived  through 
it,  or  died  in  it,  we  made  it  great  by  great 
fighting.  For  we  fought  it  to  the  end  in 
spite  of  interruptions." 

"  Interruptions  !  "  exclaimed  the  Trapper. 
"I  do  not  understand  ye,  chief.  What  but 
death  could  interrupt  a  fight  like  that?" 

"  Listen,  Trapper,  listen,"  rejoined  the  chief, 
excitedly.  "  Listen,  that  you  may  understand 
what  stopped  the  fight,  for  never  since  man  was 
born  was  fought  such  fight  as  we  there  fought, 
high  up  above  the  sea,  that  day  at  Mamelons. 
I  told  you  it  was  an  old  feud  between  the 
Mountaineers  and  Esquimaux,  a  feud  that  had 
held  its  heat  hot  for  a  thousand  years,  and 
we,  a  thousand  on  each  side,  one  for  each 
year,  fought  on  the  sand,  while  above,  below, 


MAMELOMS.  51 

and  around  the  dead  of  a  thousand  years, 
slain  in  the  feud,  fought  too." 

"Nay,  nay,"  exclaimed  the  Trapper.  "Chief, 
it  cannot  be.  The  dead  fight  not,  but  live  in 
peace  forever,  praise  be  to  God,"  and  he  bowed 
his  head  reverently. 

"That  is  your  faith,  not  mine,  John  Nor- 
ton, for  I  hold  to  an  older  faith  —  that  men 
by  a  knife's  thrust  are  not  changed,  but  go, 
with  all  their  passions  with  them,  to  the 
Spirit- Land,  and  there  build  upward  on  the 
old  foundation.  And  so,  I  say  again,  that 
the  dead  of  a  thousand  years  fought  in  the 
air  above  and  around  us  on  that  day  at 
Mamelons.  For  in  the  pauses  of  the  wind, 
we  who  fought  on  either  side  heard  shrieks, 
and  shouts,  and  tramplings  as  of  ten  thou- 
sand feet,  and  over  us  were  roarings,  and 


52  MAMELONS. 

bcllowings,  and  hollow  noises,  dreadful  to 
hear,  and  through  all  the  battle  went  the 
word  that  '  the  old  dead  tuere  fighting,  too!' 
and  that  made  us  wild.  Both  sides  went 
mad.  The  dying  cheered  the  living,  and  the 
living  cheered  the  dead.  So  went  the  battle 
—  the  fathers  and  the  sons,  the  dead  and 
living,  hard  at  it.  The  waters  of  the  Sague- 
nay,  a  thousand  feet  below,  were  beaten  into 
foam  by  the  rush  of  fighting  feet,  and  the 
roaring  of  a  great  battle  filled  its  mouth.  Its 
dark  tide  whitened  with  strange  death  froth 
from  shore  to  shore,  while  ever  and  anon  its 
surface  shivered  and  shook.  And  under  us 
on  the  high  crest,  cloud-wrapped,  the  earth 
trembled  as  we  fought,  so  that  more  than 
once  as  we  stood  clinched,  we  two,  the  foe 
and  I,  still  gripped  for  death,  would  pause 


MAMELONS.  53 

until  the  ground  grew  steady,  for  its  trem- 
blings made  us  dizzy,  then  clinch  the  fiercer, 
mad  with  a  great  madness  at  being  stopped 
in  such  death-grapple.  Under  us  all  the  long 
afternoon  the  great  mounds  rose  and  sank 
like  waves  that  have  no  base  to  stand  upon. 
The  clouds  snowed  ashes.  Mud  fell  in  show- 
ers. The  air  we  breathed  stank  with  brim- 
stone and  burnt  bones.  And  still  it  thick- 
ened, and  still  both  sides,  now  but  a  scattered 
few,  fought  on,  until  at  last,  with  a  crash,  as  if 
the  world  had  split  apart,  darkness,  deep  as 
death,  fell  suddenly,  so  that  eyes  were  vain,  and 
we  who  were  not  dead,  unable  to  find  foe,  stood 
still.  And  thus  the  battle  ended,  even  drawn, 
because  God  stopped  the  fight  at  Mamelons.1 

1  The  Saguenay  is  undoubtedly  of  earthquake  origin. 
The   north  shore  of  the   St.  Lawrence  from  Cape  Tour- 


54  MA  MELONS. 

"  At  last  the  morning  dawned  at  Mamelons, 
and    never   since    those    ancient  beaches '  saw 

mente  to  Point  du  Monts,  is  one  of  the  earthquake  cen- 
tres of  the  world.  In  1663  a  frightful  series  of  convulsions 
occurred,  lasting  for  more  than  four  months  ;  and,  it  is 
said,  that  not  a  year  passes  that  motions  are  not  felt  in 
the  earth.  The  old  maelstrom  at  Bai  St.  Paul  was  caused 
by  subterranean  force,  and  by  subsequent  shocks  deprived 
of  its  terrible  power.  The  mouth  of  the  Saguenay  was 
one  of  the  great  rendezvous  of  the  Indian  races  long 
before  Jacques  Cartier  came,  and  the  great  mounds  above 
Tadousac  have  been  the  scene  of  many  great  Indian  bat- 
tles ;  but  I  would  not  make  affidavit  that  an  earthquake 
ever  did  actually  take  place  while  one  was  being  fought, 
although  there  may  have  been,  and  certainly,  from  an 
artistic  point  of  view,  there  should  have  been,  such  a 
poetic  conjunction. 

1  These  mamelons,  or  great  sand  mounds,  are  be- 
lieved to  be  the  old  geologic  beaches  of  earliest  times. 
They  rise  in  tiers,  or  great  terraces,  one  above  the  other, 
to  a  great  height,  the  uppermost  one  being  a  thousand 
feet  or  more  above  the  Saguenay,  and  represent,  as  they 


MA  MELONS.  55 

the  world's  first  morning,  had  the  round  sun 
looked  down  on  such  a  scene.  The  great 
terraces  on  which  we  fought  were  ankle  deep 
with  ashes  mixed  with  mud,  and  cinders  black 
and  hard,  like  burnt  iron,  and  all  the  sand 
was  soaked  with  blood.  The  dead  were 
heaped.  They  lay  like  drifted  wreckage  on 
a  beach,  where  the  eddying  surges  of  the 
battle  tossed  them  in  piles  and  tangled  heaps 
like  jammed  timber.  For  in  the  darkness, 
we  had  fought  by  sound,  and  not  by  sight, 
and  where  the  battle  roared  loudest,  thither 
had  we  rushed,  using  axe  and  knife  and  the 
short  seal  spears  of  the  damned  Esquimaux. 
And  all  the  later  battle  was  fought  breast  to 

run  down  from  terrace  to  terrace,  the  shrinking  of  the 
"  face  of  the  deep  "  in  the  creative  period,  by  the  shrink- 
ing of  which  the  solid  earth  rose  in  sight. 


56  MA  MELONS. 

breast,  for  ere  half  were  dead,  powder  and  lead 
gave  out,  and  the  fray  was  hand  to  hand,  until, 
by  the  sickening  darkness,  God  stopped  it. 

"  I  searched  the  dreadful  field  from  end 
to  end  to  find  my  own,  and  found  them. 
With  blackened  hands,  clouted  with  blood, 
I  drew  them  together.  Forty  in  all,  I 
stretched  them,  side  by  side,  and  the  savage 
pride  of  the  old  blood  in  me  burst  from  my 
mouth  in  a  shrill  yell,  when  I  saw  that  twenty 
swarthy  bosoms  showed  the  knife's  thrust 
deep  and  wide.  They  died  like  warriors, 
Trapper,  true  to  the  old  Lenape  blood, 
whose  Tortoise '  steadfastness  upheld  the 

1  The  Lenni-Lenape  had,  at  the  coming  of  the 
whites,  their  territory  on  the  Delaware,  but  their  tradi- 
tions point  to  long  journeyings  from  the  east  over  wide 
waters  and  cold  countries.  Their  language,  strange  to 


MA  MELONS.  57 

world.  I  made  a  mound  above  their  bodies, 
and  heaped  it  high  with  rounded  stones 
which  crowned  the  uppermost  beach,  and 
made  wail  above  friends  and  kindred  fallen 
in  strange  feud.  And  there  they  sleep,  on 
that  high  verge,  where  the  unwritten  knowl- 
edge of  my  fathers,  told  from  age  to  age, 
declare  the  waters  of  the  earliest  morning 
first  found  shore."  [See  note  i,  page  54.] 

say,  has  in  it  words  identical  with  the  old  Basque 
tongue,  and  establishes  some  community  of  origin  or 
history  in  the  remote  ages.  The  Lenni-Lenape  had  as 
their  Totem,  or  sacred  sign  of  origin  and  blood,  a 
Tortoise  with  a  globe  on  its  back,  and  boasted  that 
they  were  the  oldest  of  all  races  of  men,  tracing  their 
descent  through  the  ages  to  that  day  when  the  world 
was  upheld  by  a  Tortoise,  or  turtle,  resting  in  the 
midst  of  the  waters.  As  a  tribe  they  were  very  brave, 
proud,  and  honorable. 


58  M 'A  MELONS. 

"  Never  did  I  hear  a  tale  like  this,"  ex- 
claimed the  Trapper.  "  Strange  stones  of 
this  fight  I  heard  in  the  far  north,  chanted 
in  darkness  at  midnight,  with  wild  wailing 
of  the  tribes ;  but  I  held  it  as  the  trick  of 
sorcerers  to  frighten  with.  Go  on  and  tell 
me  all.  Chief,  what  next  befell  thee  ? " 

"  John  Norton,  thou  hast  come  half  a 
thousand  miles  to  hear  a  tale  of  death  told 
by  a  dying  man.  Listen,  and  remember  all 
I  say,  for  at  the  close  it  touches  close  on 
thee.  A  fate  whose  meshes  woven  when  our 
blood  was  crossed  has  tangled  all  that  bore  our 
name  in  ruin  from  the  start,  and  with  my  going 
only  one  remains  to  suffer  further." 

Here  the  chief  paused  while  one  might 
count  a  score,  then,  looking  steadily  at  the 
Trapper,  said  : 


MAMELONS.  59 

"  Last  month,  when  the  raven  was  on  the 
moon,1  my  warning  came.  The  old  wound 
opened  without  cause,  and,  lying  on  this  bed, 
I  saw  the  hour  of  my  death,  and  beyond, 
thee,  I  saw,  and  beside  thee  the  last  and 
sweetest  of  our  line,  and  the  same  doom 
was  over  her  as  has  been  to  us  all  since  the 
fatal  cross  —  the  doom  which  sends  courage 
and  beauty  to  a  quick,  sad  death." 

"I  do  not  understand,"  replied  the  Trap- 
per. "Tell  me  what  befell  thee  further, 
step  by  step,  and  how  I,  a  man  without  a 
cross,2  can  be  connected  with  the  old  tradi- 
tions of  thy  tribe  and  house  ?  " 

1  When  the   raven  was   on    the    moon.     An    Indian 
description  of  an  eclipse. 

2  A  man  without  a  cross,  viz.,  a  pure-blooded  man. 
A   white    man  without  any   Indian   or  foreign   blood  in 
his  veins. 


60  MAMELONS. 

"  Listen.  In  coming  from  the  field,  I  saw, 
half-covered  by  the  ashes,  a  body  clothed  in 
a  foreign  garb.  It  lay  face  downward  where 
the  dead  were  thickest,  one  arm  outstretched, 
the  hand  of  which,  gloved  to  the  wrist,  still 
gripped  a  sword,  red  to  its  jeweled  hilt. 
The  head  was  foul  with  ash  and  sand,  but  I 
noted  that  the  hair  was  black  and  long,  and 
worn  like  a  warrior's  of  our  ancient  race. 
Then  I  remembered  a  habit  of  boyish  days 
and  pride.  Trembling,  I  stooped,  lifted  the 
body  upward  and  turned  the  dead  face 
toward  me.  And  there,  there  on  that  field 
of  Mamelons,  where  it  was  said  of  old, 
before  one  of  my  blood  had  ever  seen 
the  salted  shore,  the  last  of  our  race 
should  die,  all  foul  with  ash  and  sand 
and  blood,  brows  knit  with  battle  rage,  teeth 


MAMELOXS.  6 1 

bared  and  tightly  set,  /  saw  my  brother's 
face!" 

"  God  in  heaven  !  "  exclaimed  the  Trapper. 
"  How  came  he  there,  and  who  killed  him?" 

"  John  Norton,  you  know  our  cross,  and 
that  the  best  blood  of  the  old  world  and  the 
new,  older  than  the  old,  is  in  our  veins.  My 
grandsire  was  the  son  of  one  who  stood  next 
to  the  throne  of  France,  and  all  our  line  have 
studied  in  her  polished  schools  since  red  and 
white  blood  mingled  in  our  veins.  There  did 
we  two,  my  brother  and  I,  remain  until  my 
father  called  us  home.  I  left  him  high  in  the 
court's  favor.  Thence,  suddenly,  without  send- 
ing word,  with  a  young  wife  and  office  of 
trust,  he  voyaged,  hoping  to  give  me  glad 
surprise.  A  tempest  drove  his  ship  on  Lab- 
rador ;  but  he  saved  wife  and  gold.  The 


62  AJ A  MELONS. 

Esquimaux  proved  friendly,  and  gave  him 
help,  and,  reckless  of  consequence,  as  have 
been  all  our  line  since  the  French  taint  came 
to  us,  not  knowing  cause,  he  joined  the  wild 
horde,  and  came  with  them  to  fatal  Mamelons 
and  its  dread  fight. 

"  So  chanced  it,  Trapper.  I  dropped  the 
body  from  my  arms,  for  a  great  sickness 
seized  me  and  my  head  swam,  and  in  the 
bloody  tangle  of  dead  bodies  I  sat  limp  and 
lifeless.  Then  in  a  frenzy,  clutching  madly 
at  a  straw  of  hope,  I  tore  the  waistcoat, 
corded  with  gold,  from  the  stiff  breast  to  find 
proof  that  would  not  lie.  And  there,  there 
above  his  heart,  with  eyes  bloodshot  and  bul- 
ging, I  saw  the  emblem  of  our  tribe  —  the  Tor- 
toise, with  the  round  world  on  his  back  ;  and 
through  the  sacred  Totem  of  our  ancient  line- 


MAMELONS.  63 

age,  which  our  father's  hand  had  tattooed  on 
his  chest  and  mine  ;  yea,  through  it  and  the 
white  skin  above  his  heart,  there  gaped  a 
gash,  swollen  and  red,  which  my  own  knife 
had  made.  For  in  the  darkness  of  the  fight, 
bearing  up  against  an  Esquimaux  rush,  ash- 
blinded,  I  found  a  foe  who  swore  in  French 
and  had  a  sword.  He  and  I  fought  grap 
pling  in  the  dark,  when  the  earth  hove  be- 
neath our  feet  and  ashes  rained  upon  ,us  ; 
and  his  sword  ran  me  through  even  as  I 
thrust  my  long  knife  into  him. 

"And  thus  at  Mamelons,  where  sits  the 
doom  of  our  race  awaiting  us,  in  its  dread 
fight,  both  fighting  without  cause,  I  slew  my 
brother,  and  from  his  hand  I  got  the  wound 
from  whose  old  poison  I  now  die. 

"  Thus   I   stood  among  the  dead  at  Mame- 


64  MA  MELONS. 

Ions,  a  chief  without  a  tribe  and  my  brother's 
murderer.  I  moved  some  bodies  and  scraped 
downward,  that  I  might  have  clean  sand  to 
fall  upon  ;  then  drew  my  knife  to  let  life  out, 
and  thus  meet  bravely  the  old  doom  foretold 
for  me  and  mine  as  awaiting  us  since  man 
was  born  on  the  shore  of  that  first  world. 
But  even  as  I  bent  to  the  knife's  point,  a 
voice  called  me  and  I  turned. 

"  It  was  an  Esquimau  ;  the  only  chief  left 
from  the  fight ;  my  brother's  host  seeking  my 
brother.  He  knew  me,  for  he  and  I  had 
clinched  in  the  great  fight,  but  the  earth 
opening  parted  us,  and  so  both  lived.  Each 
felt  for  each  as  warriors  feel  for  a  brave  foe 
when  the  red  fight  is  ended  and  the  field  of 
death  is  heavy.  Thus,  battle-tired,  amid  the 
dead,  we  lifted  hands,  palm  outward,  and  met 


MA  MELONS.  65 

in  peace.  He  knew  the  language  of  old 
France,  and  I  told  him  of  my  woe,  of  our 
old  race,  of  tribesmen  dead,  of  brother  slain 
by  my  own  hand,  and  of  the  doom  that  waited 
for  us  over  Mamelons.  And  then  he  spoke 
and  told  me  that  which  stayed  my  hand  and 
held  me  unto  further  life. 

"  Seven  days  I  journeyed  with  him,  and  on 
the  eighth  I  came  to  where  she  sat,  amid 
his  children^  in  his  rude  house  at  Labrador. 
Never,  since  God  created  woman,  was  one 
made  so  beautiful  as  she.  She  was  of  that 
old  Iberian  race,  whose  birth  is  older  than 
annals,  whose  men  conquered  the  world  and 
whose  women  wedded  gods.  She  was  a 
Basque,1  and  her  ancestor's  ships  had  an- 

1  As  far  back  in  time  as  annals  or  traditions  extend, 
a  race  of  men  called  Iberians  dwelt  on  the  Spanish  penin- 


66  MAMELOA'S. 

chored  under  Mamelons  a  thousand  years 
before  the  Breton  came.  Fresh  from  the 

sula.  Winchell  says  that  "  these  Iberians  spread  over 
Spain,  Gaul,  and  the  British  islands  as  early  as  5000 
B.C.  When  Egypt  was  only  at  her  fourth  dynasty  this 
race  had  conquered  all  the  world  west  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean." 

They  originally  settled  Sardinia,  Italy,  and  Sicily,  and 
spread  northward  as  far  as  Norway  and  Sweden.  Strabo 
says,  speaking  of  a  branch  of  this  race  :  "  They  employ 
the  art  of  writing,  and  have  written  books  containing 
memorials  of  ancient  times,  and  also  poems  and  laws 
set  in  verse,  for  which  they  claim  an  antiquity  of  6000 
years.  These  old  Iberians  to-day  are  represented  by  the 
Basques.  The  Basques  are  fast  dying  out,  and  but  a 
small  remnant  is  left.  They  undoubtedly  represent  the 
first  race  of  men.  They  are  proud,  merry,  and  pas- 
sionate. The  women  are  very  beautiful,  and  noted  for 
their  wit,  vivacity,  and  subtle  grace  of  person.  They 
love  music,  and  dance  much.  Some  of  their  dances  are 
symbolic  and  connected  with  their  ancient  mysteries. 
Their  language  is  unconnected  with  any  European  tongue 


MAMELONS.  67 

dreadful  field,  with  heart  of  lead,  my  broth- 
er's face  staring  whitely  at  me  as  I  talked,  I 
told  her  all  —  the  fight,  the  death  of  brother 
and  of  tribe,  and  the  doom  that  waited 
for  our  blood  above  the  shining  sands  at 
Mamelons. 

or  dialect,  but,  strange  to  say,  it  is  connected  by  close 
resemblance,  in  many  words,  with  the  Maiya  language 
of  Central  America  and  that  of  the  Algonquin-Lenape 
and  a  few  other  of  our  Indian  tribes.  Duponceau  says 
of  the  Basque  tongue  : 

"  This  language,  preserved  in  a  corner  of  Europe  by  a 
few  thousand  Mountaineers,  is  the  sole  remaini.ig  frag- 
ment of  perhaps  a  hundred  dialects,  constructed  on  the 
same  plan,  which  probably  existed  and  were  universally 
spoken  at  a  remote  period  in  that  quarter  of  the  world. 
Like  the  bones  of  the  mammoth,  it  remains  a  monument 
of  the  destruction  produced  by  a  succession  of  ages.  It 
stands  single  and  alone  of  its  kind,  surrounded  by  idioms 
that  have  no  affinity  with  it." 


68  M 'A  MELONS. 

"  She  listened  to  the  end.  Then  rose  and 
took  my  hand  and  kissed  it,  saying :  '  Brother, 
I  kiss  thy  hand  as  head  of  our  house.  What's 
done  is  done.  The  dead  cannot  come  back.' 
Then,  covering  up  her  face  with  her  rich 
laces,  she  went  within  the  hanging  skins,  and 
for  seven  days  was  hidden  with  her  woe. 

"  But  when  the  seven  days  were  passed 
she  came,  and  we  held  council.  Next  morn, 
with  ten  canoes  deep  laden  with  gold  and 
precious  stuffs,  that  portion  of  her  dower 
saved  from  the  wreck,  we  started  hitherward. 
This  island,  after  many  days  of  voyaging, 
we  reached,  and  landed  here,  by  chance  or 
fate  I  know  not,  for  she  spake  the  word  that 
stopped  us  on  this  shore,  not  I.  For  on  this 
island  did  my  fathers  live,  and  here  the  fate- 
ful cross  came  to  our  blood,  that  cross  with 


MAMELONS.  69 

France  which  was  not  fit ;  for  the  traditions 
of  our  tribe  —  a  mystery  for  a  thousand  years 
—  had  said  that  any  cross  of  red  with  white 
should  ripen  doom  at  Mamelons ;  for  there 
it  was  the  white  first  landed  on  the  shore 
of  this  western  world.1 

1  The  antiquity  of  European  visitation  to  the  St. 
Lawrence  is  unascertained,  and,  perhaps,  unascertain- 
able.  But  there  is  good  reason  to  think  that  long  be- 
fore Jacques  Cartier,  Cabot,  or  even  the  Norsemen, 
ever  saw  the  American  continent,  the  old  Basque  people 
carried  on  a  regular  commerce  in  fish  and  fur  with  the 
St.  Lawrence.  It  is  not  impossible  but  that  Columbus 
obtained  sure  knowledge  of  a  western  hemisphere  from 
the  old  race,  who  dwelt,  and  had  dwelt,  immemorially 
among  the  mountains  of  Spain,  as  well  as  from  the 
Norse  charts.  Their  language,  legends,  traditions,  and 
many  signs  compel  one  to  the  conclusion  that  the  old 
Iberian  race,  who  once  held  all  modern  Europe  and 
the  British  isle  in  subjection,  was  of  ocean  origin,  and 
pushed  on  the  van  of  an  old-time  and  world-wide  navi- 


•JQ  MAMELONS. 

"  She  needed  refuge,  for  within  her  life- 
another  life  was  growing.  Brooding,  she 
prayed  that  the  new  soul  within  her  might 
not  be  a  boy.  '  A  boy,'  she  said,  '  must  meet 
the  doom  foretold.  A  girl,  perchance,  might 
not  be  held.'  Her  faith  and  mine  were  one, 
save  hers  was  older,  she  being  of  the  old 
trunk  stock,  of  which  the  world-supporting 
Tortoise  were  a  branch ;  and  so  my  blood 
was  later,  flowing  from  noonday  fountains, 
while  hers  ran  warm  and  red,  a  pure,  sole 
stream,  which  burst  from  out  the  ponderous 
front  of  dead  eternity,  when,  with  His  living 
rod,  God  smote  it,  in  the  red  sunrise  of  the 

gation  beyond  the  record  of  modern  annals.  Both 
Jacques  Cartier  and  John  Cabot  found,  with  astonish- 
ment, old  Basque  names  everywhere,  as  they  sailed 
up  the  coast,  the  date  of  whose  connection  with  the 
geography  of  the  shores  the  natives  could  not  tell. 


MAMELONS.  7 1 

world.  On  this  her  soul  was  set,  nor  could 
I  change  her  thought  with  reason,  which  I 
vainly  tried,  lest  if  the  birth  should  prove  a 
boy,  the  shock  should  kill  her.  But  she  held 
stoutly  to  it,  saying: 

"  '  The  women  of  our  race  get  what  they 
crave.  My  child  shall  be  a  woman,  and 
being  so,  win  what  she  plays  for.' 

"  And,  lo !  she  had  her  wish ;  for  when 
the  babe  was  born  it  was  a  girl. 

"  All  since  is  known  to  you,  for  you,  by 
a  strange  fate,  blown,  like  a  cone  of  the 
high  pine  from  the  midst  of  whirlwinds, 
when  forest  fires  are  kindled  and  the  gales 
made  by  their  heat  blow  hot  a  thousand 
miles  across  the  land,  dropped  on  this  island 
like  help  from  Heaven.  Twice  was  I  saved 
from  death  by  thee.  Twice  was  she  rescued 


72  MA  MELONS. 

at  the  peril  of  thy  life ;  mother  and  child, 
by  thy  quick  hand,  snatched  out  of  death. 
And  when  the  cursed  fever  came,  and  she 
and  I  lay,  like  two  burning  brands,  you 
nursed  us  both,  and  from  your  arms  at  last, 
her  eyes  upon  you  lovingly,  her  soul  unwill- 
ingly, under  fate,  went  .  from  us.  And  her 
sweet  form,  instinct  with  the  old  grace  and 
passion  of  that  vanished  race  which  once 
outrivaled  Heaven's  beauty  and  won  wed- 
lock with  the  gods,  lay  on  your  bosom  as 
some  rare  rose,  touched  by  untimely  frost, 
while  yet  its  royal  bloom  is  opening  to  the 
sun,  lies,  leaf  loosened,  a  lovely  ruin  rudely 
made  on  the  harsh  gravel  walk." 

Here  the  chief  stopped  with  a  gasp,  struck 
through  and  through  with  sharp  pains.  His 
face  whitened  and  he  groaned.  The  spasm 


MAMELONS.  ~-> 

passed,  but  left  him  weak.  Rallying,  with 
effort,  he  went  on  : 

"  I  must  be  brief.  That  spasm  was  the 
second.  The  third  will  end  me.  God ! 
How  the  old  stab  jumps  to-night ! 

"  Trapper,  you  know  how  wide  our  titles 
reach.  A  hundred  miles  from  east  to  west, 
from  north  to  south,  the  manor  runs.  It  is 
a  princely  stretch.  A  time  will  come  when 
cities  will  be  on  it,  and  its  deeds  of  warranty 
be  worth  a  kingdom.  Would  that  a  boy 
outside  the  deadly  limits  of  the  cross,  but 
dashed  with  the  old  blood  in  vein  and  skin, 
were  born  to  heir  the  place  and  live  as  mas- 
ter on  these  lakes  and  hills,  on  which  the 
mighty  chiefs  who  bore  the  Tortoise  sign 
upon  their  breasts  when  it  upheld  the  world, 
beyond  the  years  of  mortal  memory,  lived 


74  MAMELONS. 

and  hunted !  For  when  the  doom  in  the 
far  past,  before  one  of  our  blood  had  ever 
seen  the  salted  shore,  was  spoken,  it  was 
said : 

" '  This  doom,  for  sin  against  the  blood, 
shall  not  touch  one  born  in  the  female  line 
from  sire  without  a  cross.' 

"  I  tell  you,  Trapper,  a  thousand  chiefs 
of  the  old  race  would  leave  their  graves  and 
fight  again  at  Mamelons  to  see  the  old  doom 
broken,  and  a  boy,  with  one  clear  trace  of 
ancient  blood  in  vein  and  skin,  ruling  as 
master  here!  And  I,  who  die  to-night,  I, 
and  he  who  gave  me  death  and  whom  I  slew, 
would  rise  to  lead  them ! 

"  John  Norton,  you  I  have  called ;  you 
who  have  saved  my  life  and  whose  life  I 
have  saved ;  you,  who  have  stood  in  battle 


MAMELONS.  75 

with  me  when  the  red  line  wavered  and 
we  two  saved  the  fight ;  you  who  have  the 
wild  deer's  foot,  the  cougar's  strength, 
whose  word  once  given  stands,  like  a 
chiefs,  the  test  of  fire ;  you,  all  white  in 
face,  all  red  at  heart,  a  Tortoise,  and  yet  a 
man  without  a  cross,  have  I  called  half  a 
thousand  miles  to  ask  with  dying  breath  this 
question  : 

"  May  not  that  boy  be  born,  the  old  race 
kept  alive,  the  long  curse  stayed,  and  ended 
with  my  life  forever  be  the  doom  of  Mame- 
lons  ?  Speak,  Trapper,  friend,  comrade  in 
wrar,  in  hunt  and  hall,  speak  to  my  failing 
ear,  that  I  may  die  exultant  and  tell  the 
thousand  chiefs  that  throng  to  greet  me  in 
the  Spirit-land  that  the  old  doom  is  lifted 
and  a  race  with  blood  of  theirs  in  vein  and 


76  MAMELONS. 

skin    shall    live    and    rule    forever   mid    their 
native   hills?" 

From  the  first  word  the  strange  tale,  half 
chanted,  had  rolled  onward  like  the  great 
river  flooding  upward  from  the  gulf,  between 
narrowing  banks,  with  swift  and  swifter  mo- 
tion, growing  pent  and  tremulous  as  it  flows, 
until  it  challenges  the  base  of  Cape  Tour- 
ment  with  thunder.  And  not  until  the  dying 
chief,  with  headlong  haste,  had  launched  the 
query  forth  —  the  solemn  query,  whose  answer 
would  fix  the  bounds  of  fate  forever  —  did  the 
Trapper  dream  whither  the  wild  tale  tended. 
His  face  whitened  like  a  dead  man's,  and  he 
stood  dumb  —  dumb  with  doubt  and  fear  and 
shame.  At  last,  with  effort,  as  when  one  lifts 
a  mighty  weight,  he  said,  and  the  words  were 
heaved  from  out  his  chest,  as  great  weights 


MAMELONS.  77 

from  deepest  depths :  "  Chief,  ye  know  not 
what  ye  ask.  My  God  !  I  am  not  fit !  " 

Across  the  swarth  face  of  the  dying  man 
there  swept  a  flash  of  flame,  and  his  glazed 
eyes  lighted  with  a  mighty  joy. 

"  Enough  !  enough  !  It  is  enough  !  "  he 
cried.  "  The  women  of  her  race  will  have 
their  way,  and  she  will  win  thee.  God  !  If 
I  might  live  to  see  that  brave  boy  born,  the 
spent  fountain  of  the  old  race  filled  again 
by  that  rich  tide  in  her  which  flows  red  and 
warm  from  the  sunrise  of  the  world  !  Nay, 
nay.  Thou  shalt  not  speak  again.  I  leave 
it  in  the  hands  of  fate.  Before  I  pass  the 
seeing  eye  will  come,  and  I  shall  see  if  sun- 
light shines  on  Mamelons." 

He  touched  a  silver  bell  above  his  head, 
and,  after  pause,  the  girl,  in  whom  the  beauty 


7  8  MAMELONS. 

of  her  mother  and  her  race  lived  on,  whose 
form  was  lithe,  but  rounded  full,  whose  face 
was  dark  as  woods,  but  warmly  toned  with 
the  old  Basque  splendor,  like  wine  when 
light  shines  through  it,  type  of  the  two  old- 
est and  handsomest  races  of  the  world,  stood 
by  his  side. 

Long  gazed  the  chief  upon  her,  a  vision 
too  beautiful  for  earth,  too  warm  for  heaven. 
The  light  of  a  great  pride  was  in  his  eyes, 
but  shaded  with  mournful  pity. 

"  Last  of  my  race,"  he  murmured.  "  Last 
of  my  blood,  farewell !  Thou  hast  thy  mother's 
beauty,  and  not  a  trace  of  the  damned  cross 
is  on  thee.  Follow  thou  thy  heart.  The 
women  of  thy  race  won  so.  My  feet  are 
on  the  endless  trail  blazed  by  my  fathers  for 
ten  thousand  years.  I  cannot  tarry  if  I  would. 


Al  A  MELONS.  79 

I  leave  thee  under  care  of  this  just  man.  Be 
thou  his  comfort,  as  he  will  be  thy  shield. 
There  is  a  chest,  thy  mother's  dying  gift,  thou 
knowest  where.  Open  and  read,  then  shalt 
thou  know.  Trapper,  read  thou  the  ritual  of 
the  church  above  my  bier.  So  shall  it  please 
thee.  Thou  art  the  only  Christian  I  ever 
knew  who  kept  his  word  and  did  not  cheat 
the  red  man.  Some  trace  of  the  old  faiths, 
therefore,  there  must  be  in  these  modern 
creeds,  albeit  the  holders  of  them  cheat  and 
fight  each  other.  But,  daughter  of  my  house, 
last  of  my  blood,  born  under  shadow,  and  it 
may  be  unto  doom,  make  thou  my  burial  in 
the  old  fashion  of  thy  race,  older  than  mine. 
These  modern  creeds  and  mushroom  rituals 
are  not  for  us  whose  faiths  were  born  when 
God  was  on  the  earth,  and  His  sons  married 


80  MA  MELONS. 

the  daughters  of  men.  So  bury  me,  that  I 
may  join  the  old-time  folk  who  lived  near 
neighbors  to  this  modern  God,  and  married 
their  daughters  to  His  sons." 

Here  paused  he  for  a  space,  for  the  old 
wound  jumped,  and  life  flowed  with  his  blood. 

Then  suddenly  a  change  came  to  his  face. 
His  eyes  grew  fixed.  He  placed  one  hand 
above  the  staring  orbs,  as  if  to  help  them 
see  afar.  A  moment  thus.  Then,  whisper- 
ing hoarsely,  said  : 

"  Take  thou  his  hand.  Cling  to  it.  The 
old  Tortoise  sight  at  death  is  coming.  I  see 
the  past  and  future.  Daughter,  I  see  thee 
now,  and  by  thy  side,  thy  arms  around  his 
neck,  his  arms  round  thee,  the  man  without  a 
cross !  Aye.  She  was  right.  '  The  women 
of  my  race  get  what  they  crave.'  Girl,  thou 


MAMELONS.  8 1 

hast  won  !  Rejoice,  rejoice  and  sing.  But, 
oh  !  my  God  !  My  God  !  John  Norton  ! 
Look  !  Daughter,  last  of  my  blood,  in  spite 
of  all,  in  spite  of  all,  above  thy  head  hangs, 
breaking  black,  the  doom  of  Mamelons  !  " 

And  with  these  words  of  horror  on  his  lips, 
the  chief,  whose  bosom  bore  the  Tortoise  sign, 
who  killed  his  brother  under  doom  at  Mame- 
lons, fell  back  stone  dead. 

So  died  he.  Three  days  went  by  in  silence. 
Then  did  the  two  build  high  his  bier  in  the 
great  hall,  and  place  him  on  it,  stripped  like 
a  warrior,  to  his  waist,  for  so  he  charged  the 
Trapper  it  should  be.  Thus  sitting  in  the 
great  chair  of  cedar,  hewn  to  the  fragrant 
heart,  in  the  wide  hall,  hound  at  feet,  the 
Tortoise  showing  plainly  on  his  breast,  a  fire 
of  great  knots,  gummed  with  odorous  pitch, 


82  MA  MELONS. 

blazing  on  the  hearth,  the  two,  each  by  the 
faith  that  guided,  made,  for  the  dead  chief  of 
a  dead  tribe,  strange  funeral. 

And  first,  the  Trapper,  standing  by  the  bier, 
gazed  long  and  steadfastly  at  the  dead  man's 
face.  Then  the  girl,  going  to  the  mantel, 
reached  for  a  book  and  placed  it  in  his  hand 
and  stood  beside  him. 

Then,  after  pause,  he  read  : 
"I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  Life." 
And    the    liturgy,  voiced  deeply  and    slowly 
read,  as  by  one  who  readeth  little  and  labors 
with    the   words,    sounded    through    the   great 
hall  solemnly. 

Then  the  girl,  standing  by  his  side,  in  the 
splendor  of  her  beauty,  the  lights  shining 
warmly  on  the  dark  glory  of  her  face,  lifted 
up  her  voice  —  a  voice  fugitive  from  heaven's 


MAMELONS.  83 

choir  —  and  sang  the  words'  the  Trapper  had 
intoned  : 

" I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  Life." 

And  her  rich  tones,  pure  as  note  of  hermit- 
thrush  cleaving  the  still  air  of  forest  swamps ; 
clear  as  the  song  of  morning  lark  singing  in 
the  dewy  sky,  rose  to  the  hewn  rafters  and 
swelled  against  the  compressing  roof  as  if 
they  would  break  out  of  such  imprisonment, 
and  roll  their  waves  of  sound  afar  and  up- 
ward until  they  mingled  with  kindred  tones 
in  heaven. 

Again  the  Trapper : 

"He  -who  believeth  in  me,  though  he  were 
dead,  yet  shall  he  live  !  " 

And  again  the  marvellous  voice  pealed  forth 
the  words  of  everlasting  hope,  as  if  from  the 
old  race  that  lived  in  the  dawn  of  the  world, 


84  MAMELONS. 

whose  blood  was  in  her  rich  and  red,  had 
come  to  her  the  memory  of  the  music  they 
had  heard  run  thrilling  through  the  happy  air 
when  the  stars  of  the  morning  sang  together 
for  joy. 

Alas,  that  such  a  voice  from  the  old  days 
of  soul  and  song  should  lie  smothered  for- 
ever beneath  the  sand  of  Mamelons  ! 

Thus  the  first  part.  For  the  Trapper,  like 
a  Christian  man  without  cross,  would  give  his 
dead  friend  holy  burial.  Then  came  a  pause. 
And  for  a  space  the  two  sat  silent  in  the 
great  hall,  while  the  pitch  knots  flamed  and 
flared  their  splashes  of  red  light  through  the 
gloom. 

Then  rose  the  girl  and  took  the  Trapper's 
place  at  the  dead  man's  feet.  Her  hair,  black 
with  a  glossy  blackness,  swept  the  floor.  A 


MAMELONS,  85 

jewel,  large  and  lustrous,  an  heirloom  of  her 
mother's  race,  old  as  the  world,  burning  with 
Atlantean  flame,  a  miracle  of  stone-impris- 
oned fire,  blazed  on  her  brow.  The  large 
gloom  of  her  eyes  was  turned  upon  the  dead 
man's  face,  and  the  sadness  of  ten  thousand 
years  of  life  and  loss  was  darkly  orbed  within 
their  long  and  heavy  lashes.  Her  small, 
swarth  hands  hung  lifeless  at  her  side,  and 
the  bowed  contour  of  her  face  drooped  heavy 
with  grief.  Thus  she,  clothed  in  black  cloth 
from  head  to  foot,  as  if  that  old  past,  whose 
child  she  was,  stood  shrouded  in  her  form, 
ready  to  make  wail  for  the  glory  of  men 
and  the  beauty  of  women  it  had  seen  buried 
forever  in  the  silent  tomb. 

Thus   stood   she   for  a  time,   as   if  she  held 
communion  with  the  grave  and  death.     Then 


86  MAMELONS. 

opened  she  her  mouth,  and  in  the  mode  when 
song  was  language,  she  poured  her  feelings 
forth  in  that  old  tongue,  which,  like  some 
fragrant  fragment  of  sweet  wood,  borne  north- 
ward by  great  ocean  currents  out  of  southern 
seas,  for  many  days  storm  tossed,  but  lodged 
at  last  on  some  far  shore  and  found  by  those 
who  only  sense  the  sweetness,  but  know  not 
whence  it  came,  lies  lodged  to-day  upon  the 
mountain  slopes  of  Spain.  Thus,  in  the  old 
Basque  tongue,  sweet  fibre  of  lost  root,  un- 
known to  moderns,  but  soft,  and  sad,  and 
wild  with  the  joy,  the  love,  the  passion  of 
ten  thousand  years,  this  child  of  the  old  past 
and  the  old  faiths,  lifted  up  her  voice  and  sang : 
"  O  death !  I  hate  thee !  Cold  thou  art 
and  dreadful  to  the  touch  of  the  warm  hand 
and  the  sweet  lips  which,  drawn  by  love's 


MA  MELONS.  87 

dear  habit,  stoop  to  kiss  the  mouth  for  the 
long  parting.  Cold,  cold  art  thou,  and  at  thy 
touch  the  blood  of  men  is  chilled  and  the 
sweet  glow  in  woman's  bosom  frozen  forever. 
Thou  art  great  nature's  curse.  The  grape 
hates  thee.  Its  blood  of  fire  can  neither 
make  thee  laugh,  nor  sing,  nor  dance.  The 
sweet  flower,  and  the  fruit  which  ripens  on 
the  bough,  nursing  its  juices  from  the  ma- 
ternal air,  and  the  bird  singing  his  love-song 
to  his  mate  amid  the  blossoms  —  hate  thee  ! 
At  touch  of  thine,  O  slayer !  the  flower  fades, 
the  fruit  withers  and  falls,  and  the  bird  drops 
dumb  into  the  grasses.  Thou  art  the  shadow 
on  the  sunshine  of  the  world  ;  the  skeleton 
at  all  feasts ;  the  marplot  of  great  plans ;  the 
stench  which  fouls  all  odors;  the  slayer  of 
men  and  the  murderer  of  women.  O  death  ! 


88  MAMELONS. 

I,  child  of  an  old  race,  last  leaf  from  a  tree 
that  shadowed  the  world,  warm  in  my  youth, 
loving  life,  loving  health,  loving  love.  O 
death !  how  I  hate  thee !  " 

Thus  she  sang,  her  full  tones  swelling  fuller 
as  she  sang,  until  her  voice  sent  its  clear 
challenge  bravely  out  to  the  black  shadow  on 
the  sunshine  of  the  world  and  the  dread  fate 
she  hated. 

Then  did  she  a  strange  thing;  a  rite  known  to 
the  morning  of  the  world  when  all  the  living 
lived  in  the  east  and  the  dead  went  westward. 

She  took  a  gourd,  filled  to  the  brown  brim, 
and  placed  it  in  the  dead  man's  stiffened 
hand,  then  laid  a  rounded  loaf  beside  his 
knee,  and  on  a  plate  of  copper  at  his  feet  — 
serpent  edged,  and  in  the  centre  a  pictured 
island  lying  low  and  long  in  the  blue  seas, 


MA  MELONS.  89 

bold  with  bluff  mountains  toward  the  east, 
but  sinking  westward  until  it  ran  from  sight 
under  the  ocean's  rim,  a  marvel  of  old  art 
in  metal  working,  lost  for  aye  —  she  placed 
a  living  coal,  and  on  it,  from  a  golden  acorn 
at  her  throat,  which  opened  at  touch,  she 
shook  a  dust,  which,  falling  on  the.  coal, 
burned  rosy  red  and  filled  the  hall  with  lan- 
guorous odors  sweet  as  Heaven.  Then,  at 
triumphant  pose,  she  stood  and  sang : 

Water  for  thy  thirst   I  have  given, 

Hurry  on  !    hurry    on  ! 
Bread    for   thy   hunger   beside   thee, 

Speed   away  !    speed    away  ! 
Fire   for   thy    need   at    thy   feet, 
Mighty  chief,   fly   fast    and    fly  far 
To    the    land   where  thy  father   and    clans- 
men   are  waiting. 


90  MA  MELONS. 

Odor  and  oil  for  the  woman  thou  lovest, 
Sweet  and  smooth  may  she  be  on  thy  breast, 
When  her  soft  arms  enfold  thee. 

O  death  !  thou  art  cheated  ! 

He  shall  thirst  never  more  ; 

He  shall  eat  and  be  filled  ; 

The  fire  at  his  feet  will  revive  him  ; 

Oil  and  odor  are  his  for  the  woman  he  loves; 

He  shall  live,  he  shall  live  on  forever 

With  his  sires  and  his  people. 
He  shall  love  and  be  loved  and  be  happy. 

O !    death   grim  and  great, 

O !    death  stark  and  cold, 

By  a  child  of  the  old  race  that  first  lived 

And  first  met  thee ; 
The  race  that   lived  first,  still  lives 

And  will  live  forever. 
By  the  child  of  the  old  blood,  by  a  girl ! 

Thou  art  cheated  ! 


CHAPTER    III. 

THE  MOTHER'S  MESSAGE. 

T^VENING  was  on  the  woods.  The  girl, 
****  her  mother's  message  in  her  hands,  gift 
from  the  chest  that  owned  the  golden  key, 
sat  reading.  And  this  is  what  she  read : 

"  My  daughter :  They  tell  me  I  must 
die.  I  know  it,  for  a  chill,  strange  to  my 
blood,  is  creeping  through  and  thickening 
in  my  veins.  It  is  the  old  tale  told  from  the 
beginning  of  the  world  —  of  warm  blood 
frozen  when  'tis  warmest,  and  beauty  blasted 
at  its  fullest  bloom.  For  I  am  at  that  age 
when  woman's  nature  gives  most  and  gets 

most    from    sun    and    flower,    from   touch    of 

91 


92  MAMELONS. 

baby  hands  and  man's  strong  love,  and  all 
the  blood  within  her  moves,  tremulous  with 
forces  whose  working  makes  her  pure  and 
sweet,  as  moves  the  strong  wine  in  the  cask 
when  ripening  its  red  strength  and  flavor. 
O  daughter  of  a  race  that  never  lied  save 
for  a  loved  one  !  blood  of  my  blood,  remem- 
ber that  your  mother  died  hating  to  die ; 
died  when  life  was  fullest,  sweetest,  fiercest 
in  her;  for  life  is  passionate  force,  and  when 
full  is  fierce  to  crave,  to  seek,  to  have  and 
hold,  and  has  been  so  since  man  loved 
woman  and  by  woman  was  beloved.  And  so 
it  is  with  me.  A  woman,  I  crave  to  live, 
and,  craving  life,  must  die. 

"  Death !  how  I  hate  thee !  What  right 
hast  thou  to  claim  me  now  when  I  am  at 
my  sweetest?  The  withered  and  the  wrin- 


MA  MELONS.  93 

kled  are  for  thee.  For  thee  the  colorless 
cheek,  the  shrivelled  breast,  the  skinny  hand 
that  shakes  as  shakes  the  leaf,  frost  smitten 
to  its  fall,  the  lustreless  eye,  and  the  lone 
soul  that  looketh  longingly  ahead  where  wait 
its  loved  ones  ;  such  are  for  thee,  not  I.  For 
I  am  fair  and  fresh  and  full  through  every 
vein  of  those  quick  forces,  which  belong  to 
life,  and  hate  the  grave.  This,  that  you 
may  know  your  mother  died  unwillingly,  and 
dying  hated  death,  as  all  of  the  old  race 
and  faith  have  ever  done  since  he  first 
came,  a  power,  a  mystery  and  a  curse  into 
the  world.  For  in  the  ancient  annals  of  our 
fathers  it  was  written  '  that  in  the  begin- 
ning of  the  world  there  was  no  death,  but 
life  was  all  in  all.'  God  talked  with  them 
as  father  talks  with  children ;  their  daugh- 


94  MA  MELONS. 

ters   were    married    to     His    sons,    and    earth 
and  heaven  were  one. 

"  Your  father  was  of  France,  but  also  of 
that  blood  next  oldest  ours.  He  was  Lenape, 
a  branch  blown  from  that  primal  tree  which 
was  the  world's  first  growth-,  whose  roots 
ran  under  ocean  before  the  first  world  sank ; 
a  branch  blown  far  by  fate,  which,  falling, 
struck  deep  into  the  soil  of  this  western 
world,  and,  vital  with  deathless  sap,  grew 
and  became  a  tree.  This  was  in  ancient 
days,  when  thoughts  of  men  were  writ  in 
pictures  and  the  round  world  rested  on  a 
Tortoise's  back — emblem  of  water.  For  the 
first  world  was  insular,  and  blue  seas  washed 
it  from  end  to  end,  a  mighty  stretch,  which 
reached  from  sunrise  into  sunset,  through 
many  zones.  Long  after  men  lost  knowl- 


MAMELONS.  95 

edge  and  the  earth  was  flat,  and  for  a  thou- 
sand years  the  Tortoise  symbol  was  an 
unread  riddle  save  to  us  of  the  old  blood, 
who  knew  the  pictured  tongue,  and  laughed 
to  see  the  later  races,  mongrel  in  blood  and 
rude,  flatten  out  the  globe  of  God  until  it 
lay  flat  as  their  ignorance.  Your  father  was 
Lenape,  who  bore  upon  his  breast  the  Tor- 
toise symbol  of  old  knowledge  made  safe 

by  sacredness  ;  for  the  wise  men   of  his   race, 

» 

that  the  old  fact  might  not  be  lost,  but  borne 
safely  on  like  a  dry  seed  blown  over  deserts 
until  it  comes  to  water,  and,  lodging,  finds 
chance  to  grow  into  a  full  flowered,  fruitful 
tree,  made  it,  when  they  died  -and  knowledge 
passed,  the  Totem  of  his  tribe.  Thus  the 
dead  symbol  kept  the  living  fact  alive.  Nor 
were  there  lacking  other  proofs  that  his  blood 


96  MAMELONS. 

was  one  with  mine,  though  reaching  us 
through  world-wide  channels.  For  in  his 
tongue,  like  flecks  of  gold  in  heaps  of  com- 
mon sand,  were  words  of  the  old  language, 
clear  and  bright  with  the  original  lustre, 
when  gold  was  sacred  ornament  and  had  no 
vulgar  use.  The  mongrel  moderns  have  made 
it  base  and  fouled  it  with  dirty  trade ;  but 
in  the  beginning,  and  by  those  of  primal 
blood,  who  knew  they  were  of  heaven,  it  was 
a  sacred  metal,  held  for  God.1 

1  Among  many  of  the  ancient  races  gold  and  silver 
were  sacred  metals,  not  used  in  commerce,  but  dedi- 
cated as  votive  offerings,  or  sent  to  the  temples  as  dues 
to  the  gods.  Nothing  more  astonished  and  puzzled 
the  natives  of  Peru  and  Mexico  than  the  eagerness 
with  which  the  Spaniards  sought  for  gold,  and  the  high 
value  they  put  upon  it.  A  West  Indian  savage  traded 
a  handful  of  gold  dust  with  one  of  the  sailors  with 


Af A  MELONS.  97 

"  We  met  in  France,  and  by  French  custom 
were  allied.  I  was  a  girl,  and  knew  not  my 
own  self,  and  he  a  boy  scarce  twenty.  Rea- 
sons of  state  there  were  to  prompt  our  mar- 
riage, and  so  we  were  joined.  He  was  of  our 
old  blood.  That  drew  me,  and  no  other  thing, 
for  love  moved  not  within  me,  but  nested 
calmly  in  my  breast  as  a  young  bird,  ere  yet 
its  wings  are  grown  or  it  has  thrilled  with 
flight,  rests  in  its  downy  cincture.  He  died 
at  Mamelons  ;  died  under  doom.  You  know 
the  tale.  He  died  and  you  came,  fatherless, 
into  the  world. 

"  You  are  your  mother's  child.  In  face  and 
form,  in  eye  and  every  look,  you  are  of  me 

Columbus  for  some  small  tool,  and  then  ran  as  for  his 
life  to  the  woods,  lest  the  sailor  should  repent  his 
bargain  and  demand  the  tool  to  be  given  back  ! 


98  MAMELONS. 

and  not  of  him.  The  French  cross  in  his 
blood  made  weakness,  and  the  stronger  blood 
prevailed.  This  is  the  law.  A  turbid  stream 
sinks  with  quick  ebb  ;  the  pure  flows  level 
on.  The  Jews  prove  this.  The  ancient  wis- 
dom stands  in  them.  The  creed,  which  steals 
from  their  old  faith,  whatever  makes  it  strong, 
has  armed  the  world  against  them,  but  their 
blood  triumphs.  The  old  tide,  red  and  true, 
unmixed,  pure,  laughs  at  these  mongrel 
streams.  Strong  with  pure  strength  it  bides 
its  time.  The  world  will  yet  be  theirs,  and 
so  the  prophecy  of  their  sacred  books  be 
met.  Pure  blood  shall  win,  albeit  muddy 
veins  to-day  are  boasted  of  by  fools. 

"  But  we  are  older  far  than  they.  The 
Jews  are  children,  while  on  our  heads  the 
rime  of  hoary  time  rests  white  as  snow.  Our 


MAMELONS.  99 

race  was  old  when  Egypt,  sailing  from  our  an- 
cestral ports,  reached,  as  a  colony,  the  Nile.1 
From  tideless  Sea,2  to  the  Green  Island  in 
the  west,3  from  southern  Spain  to  Arctic 
zones,  the  old  Basque  banner  waved  ;  while 
under  Mamelons,  where  waits  the  doom  for 
insult  to  pure  blood,  your  fathers  anchored 
ships  from  the  beginning.  What  loss  came 
to  the  earth  when  the  gods  of  the  old  world, 
of  whom  we  are,  sank  under  sea  and  with 
them  took  the  perfect  knowledge !  Alas ! 
alas  !  the  chill  creeps  in  and  on  and  I  must 

1  It   is  certain   that   the   Iberian   race   settled   on  the 
Spanish  peninsula  a  long  time  before   the   Egyptians,  a 
sister  colony  from   the   same  unknown    parental   source, 
doubtless,    began    their    marvellous     structures    on    the 
Nile. 

2  The  Mediterranean. 
8  Ireland. 


100  MAMELONS. 

hurry !  I  would  make  you  wise  before  I 
die  with  a  wisdom  which  none  save  the 
women  of  our  race  might  speak  or  learn. 

"  You  will  read  this  when  I  am  fixed  among 
the  women  of  our  race  in  the  great  realms 
where  they  are  queens.  For  since  the  first 
the  women  of  our  race  have  ruled  and  had 
their  way,  whether  for  good  or  ill,  and  both 
have  come  to  them  and  through  them  unto 
others.  And  so  forever  will  it  be.  For 
beauty  is  a  fate,  and  unto  what  'tis  set  none 
know.  The  issue  proves  it  and  naught  else. 
So  be  it.  She  who  has  the  glory  of  the  fate 
should  have  the  courage  to  bide  issue. 

"  Your  body  is  my  body ;  your  face  my 
face ;  your  blood  my  blood.  The  warmth  of 
the  old  fires  are  in  it,  and  the  sweet  heat 
which  glows  in  you  will  make  you  under- 


MA  MELONS.  IOI 

stand.  You  are  my  child,  and  being  so,  I 
give  you  of  myself.  I  love.  Love  as  the 
women  of  our  race  and  only  they  may  love. 
Love  with  a  love  that  maketh  all  my  life  so 
that  without  it  all  is  death  to  me.  That  love 
I,  dying,  bestow  on  you.  It  came  to  me  like 
flash  of  fire  on  altar  when  holy  oils  are  kin- 
dled and  the  censer  swung.  Here  I  first 
met  him.  Death  had  me.  He  fought  and 
took  me  from  his  hand.  In  the  beginning, 
men  were  large  and  strong,  and  women 
beautiful.  Giants  were  on  the  earth,  and 
our  mothers  wedded  them.  Each  was  a  rose, 
thorn-guarded,  and  the  strongest  plucked 
her  when  in  bloom  and  wore  her,  full  of 
sweets,  upon  his  bosom.  Since  then  the 
women  of  our  blood  have  loved  large  men. 
Weak  ones  we  hated.  None  save  the 


102  MAMELONS. 

mighty,  brawny,  and  brave  have  ever  felt 
our  soft  arms  round  them,  or  our  mouths 
on  theirs.  Thus  has  it  been. 

"  I  loved  him,  for  his  strength  was  as  the 
ancients,  and  with  it  gentleness  like  the 
gods.  But  he  was  humble,  and  knew  not 
his  own  greatness,  and,  blinded  by  humility, 
he  would  not  see  that  I  was  his.  So  I 
waited,  waited  as  all  women  wait,  that  they 
may  win.  It  is  not  art,  but  nature,  the 
nature  of  a  rose,  which,  daily  opening  more 
and  more  to  perfect  bloom  in  his  warm  light, 
makes  the  sun  know  his  power  at  last.  For 
love  reveals  all  greatness  in  us,  as  it  does 
all  faults.  Well  did  I  know  that  he  should 
see  at  last  his  fitness  for  me,  and,  without 
violence  to  himself,  yield  to  my  loveliness 
and  be  drawn  within  the  circle  of  my  arms. 


MA  MELONS.  103 

So  should  I  win  at  last,  as  have  the  women 
of  our  race  won  always.  But  death  mars 
all.  So  has  it  been  since  women  lived.  His 
is  the  only  knife  whose  edge  may  cut  the 
silken  bands  we  wind  round  men.  Vain  is 
all  else.  Faiths  may  not  stand  against  us, 
nor  pride,  nor  honor.  Our  power  draws 
stronger.  The  grave  alone  makes  gap  'twixt 
lovely  woman's  loving  and  bridal  bed.  So, 
dying  thus  before  my  time  I  am  bereft  of  all. 
"  But  you  shall  win,  for  in  you  I  shall  live 
again  and  to  full  time.  I  know  that  you  will 
love  him,  for  you  drew  my  passion  to  you 
with  my  milk,  and  all  my  thoughts  were  of 
him,  when,  with  large  receptive  eyes,  you 
lay  a  baby  in  my  arms,  day  after  day,  scan- 
ning my  face,  love-lighted  for  him.  Aye, 
you  will  love  him.  For  in  your  sleep, 


104  MAMELONS. 

cradled  on  the  heart  that  worshiped  him,  its 
warmth  for  him  warmed  you,  its  beating 
thrilled,  and  from  my  mouth,  murmured 
caressingly  in  dreams,  your  ears  and  tongue 
learned  his  dear  name  before  mine  own.  So 
art  thou  fated  unto  love  as  I  to  death. 
Both  could  not  win,  and  hence,  perhaps,  'tis 
well  I  die.  For  had  both  lived,  then  both 
had  loved,  mother  and  child  been  rivals,  and 
one  suffered  worse  than  dying.  Nor  am  I 
without  joy.  For  once,  when  I  was  wooing 
him  with  art  he  did  not  know,  coaxing  him 
up  to  me  with  sweet  praises  sweetly  said, 
and  purposely  I  swayed  so  my  warm  body 
fell  into  his  arms  and  there  lay  for  a  moment, 
vibrant,  all  aglow,  while  all  my  woman's  soul 
went  through  my  lifted  and  dimmed  eyes  to 
him,  I  saw  a  flash  of  fire  flame  in  his  face, 


MA  MELONS.  105 

and  felt  a  throb  jump  through  his  body,  as 
the  God  woke  in  him,  which  told  me  he  was 
mortal.  And,  faint  with  joy,  I  slid  down- 
ward from  his  arms  and  in  the  fragrant 
grasses  sat,  throbbing,  covering  up  my  face 
with  happy  hands  lest  he  should  see  the 
glory  of  it  and  be  frightened  at  what  his 
touch  had  done.  I  swear  by  the  old  blood, 
that  moment's  triumph  honored,  that  the 
memory  of  that  blissful  time  takes  from  death 
its  sting  and  robs  the  grave  of  victory,  as 
I  lie  dying. 

"  Yea,  thou  shalt  win.  The  power  will  be 
in  thee,  as  it  has  been  in  me,  to  win  him  or 
any  whom  women  made  as  we  set  heart  on. 
But  woo  him  with  that  old  art  of  innocence, 
snow  white,  though  hot  as  fire,  lost  to  the 
weak  or  brazen  women  of  these  mongrel 


106  MAMELONS. 

races  that  fill  the  world  to-day,  who  dare  not 
dare,  or  daring,  overdo.  Be  slow  as  sunrise. 
Let  thy  love  dawn  on  him  as  morning  dawns 
upon  the  earth,  and  warmth  and  light  grow 
evenly,  Jest  the  quick  flash  blind  him,  or  the 
sudden  heat  appall,  and  he  see  nothing  right, 
but  shrink  from  thee  and  his  new  self  as 
from  a  wicked  thing.  I  may  not  help  thee. 
What  fools  these  moderns  are  to  think  so. 
The  dead  have  their  own  lives  and  loves,  and 
note  not  the  living.  Else  none  might  be  at 
peace  or  know  comfort  above  the  sky,  and  all 
souls  would  make  wail  for  wrongs  and  woes 
done  and  borne  under  sun.  So  is  it  well 
that  parting  should  be  parting,  and  what  wall 
divides  the  dead  from  living  be  beyond  pen- 
etration. For  each  woman's  life  is  sole.  Her 
plans  are  hidden  with  her  love.  Her  skill  is 


MAMELONS.  107 

of  it  a  sweet  secrecy,  and  all  her  winning  is 
self- won.  I  do  not  fear.  Thou  wilt  have  the 
wooing  wisdom  of  thy  race.  Thy  eyes  are 
such  as  men  give  life  to  look  into.  The  pas- 
sion in  thy  blood  would  purchase  thrones. 
Thou  hast  the  grace  of  form  which  maddens 
men.  Thy  voice  is  music.  Thy  touch  warm 
velvet  to  the  skin.  The  first  and  perfect 
woman  lives  complete,  in  thee ! 

"  No  more.  In  the  old  land  no  one  is  left. 
The  modern  cancer  eats  all  there.  New  fash- 
ions and  new  faiths  crowd  in.  Only  low  blood 
is  left,  and  that  soon  yields  to  pelf  and  pain. 
Last  am  I  of  the  queenly  line  and  thou  art 
last  of  me.  I  came  of  gods.  To  gods  I  go. 
The  tree  that  bore  the  fruit  of  knowledge  for 
our  sex  in  the  sunrise  of  the  world  is  stripped 
to  the  last  sweet  leaf.  If  thou  shalt  die  leav- 


T08  MA  MELONS. 

ing  no  root,  the  race  God  made  is  ended. 
With  thee  the  gods  quit  earth,  and  the  old 
red  blood  beats  back  and  upward  to  the  skies. 
Gold  hast  thou  and  broad  acres.  Youth  and 
health  are  thine.  Win  his  great  strength  to 
thee,  for  he  is  pure  as  strong,  and  from  a 
primal  man  get  perfect  children,  that  in  this 
new  world  in  the  west  a  new  race  may  arise 
rich  in  old  blood,  born  among  the  hills,  strong 
with  the  strength  of  trees,  whose  sons  shall 
be  as  mountains,  and  whose  daughters  as  the 
lakes,  whose  loveliness  is  lovelier  because  of 
the  reflected  mountains  dimly  seen  in  them. 

<(  Farewell.  Love  greatly.  It  is  the  only 
way  that  leadeth  woman  to  her  heaven.  The 
moderns  have  a  saying  in  their  creed  that  God 
is  love.  In  the  beginning  he  was  Father. 
The  race  that  sprang  from  Him  said  that, 


MAMELONS.  109 

and  said  no  more.  It  was  enough.  Love 
then  was  human,  and  we  gloried  in  it.  Not 
the  pale  love  of  barren  nun,  but  love  red  as 
the  rose,  warm  as  the  sun,  the  love  of  moth- 
erly women,  sweet  mouthed,  deep  breasted, 
voiced  with  cradle  songs  and  soft  melodies 
which  made  men  love  their  homes.  Love 
thou  and  live  on  the  old  level.  Be  not 
ashamed  to  be  full  woman.  Love  strength. 
Bear  children  to  it.  Be  mother  of  a  mighty 
race  born  for  this  western  world.  Multiply. 
Inherit ;  and  send  the  old  blood  flowing  from 
thy  veins,  a  widening  current,  thrilling  through 
the  ages  ;  that  it  may  *be  as  red,  as  pure,  as 
strong  at  sunset  as  it  was  in  the  sunrise  of 
the  world. 

"  Once     more,     farewell,     sweet     daughter. 
These    are    last   words,   a  voice    from   out  the 


I  10  MAMELONS. 

sunset,  sweet  and  low  as  altar  hymn  wan- 
dering down  the  columned  aisles  of  some 
old  temple.  So  may  it  sound  to  thee.  So 
live,  so  woo,  so  win,  that  when  thou  comest 
through  the  portals  of  the  west  to  that  fair 
throne  amid  those  other  ones  which  stretch 
their  stateliness  across  the  endless  plain  of 
ended  things,  which  waits  for  thee  as  one 
has  waited  for  every  woman  of  our  queenly 
line,  thou  shalt  leave  behind  at  going  a  new 
and  noble  race,  from  thee  and  him,  in  which 
the  east  and  west,  the  sunrise  and  the  sun- 
set of  the  world  shall,  like  two  equal  glories, 
meet  condensed  and  shine.  So  fare  thee 
well.  Fear  not  Mamelons.  For  if  thou  fail- 
est  there,  thou  shalt  be  free  of  fault,  and  all 
the  myriad  millions  of  our  blood  shall  out 
of  sunset  march,  and  from  the  shining  sands 


MAMELONS.  \  \  \ 

of  fate  lift  thee  high  and  place  thee  on  the 
last,  the  highest,  and  the  whitest  throne  of 
our  old  line.  So  ends  it.  One  more  sweet 
kiss,  sweet  one.  One  more  long  look  into 
his  face  —  grave,  grave  and  sad  he  gazeth 
at  me.  God !  What  a  face  he  has !  Shall 
I  find  match  for  it  to-morrow  when  I  stand, 
amid  the  royal,  beyond  sunset  ?  Perhaps. 
Death,  you  have  good  breeding.  You  have 
waited  well.  Come,  now,  I  will  go  on  with 
thee.  Yes,  yes,  I  see  the  way.  Tis  very 
plain.  It  has  been  hollowed  by  so  many 
feet.  Good-bye  to  earthly  light  and  life.  It 
may  be  I  shall  find  a  better.  I'll  know  to- 
morrow." 

Here  the  scroll  ended.  Long  the  living 
sat  pondering  what  the  dead  had  writ.  She 
kissed  the  writing  as  it  were  holy  text.  Then 


112  MAMELONS. 

placed  it  in  the  chest,  and  turned  the  golden 
key  and  said:  "Sweet  mother,  thou  shalt 
live  in  me.  Our  race  shall  not  die  out.  My 
love  shall  win  him."  Then  went  she  to  the 
great  room  wherein  the  Trapper  by  the  red 
fire  sat  and  said:  "John  Norton,  thou  art 
my  guest.  What  may  I  do  to  pleasure 
thee  ?  Here  thou  must  stay  until  my  mind 
can  order  out  my  life  and  make  the  dubious 
road  ahead  look  plain.  While  underneath 
my  roof,  I  pray,  command  me." 

All  this  with  such  grave  dignity  and  sweet 
grace  as  she  were  queen  and  he  some  kins- 
man, great  and  wise. 

The  Trapper  stooped  and  lifted  a  huge  log 
upon  the  fire,  which  broke  the  lower  brands. 
The  chimney  roared,  and  the  large  room  bright- 
ened to  the  flame.  Then,  facing  her,  he  said  : 


MAMELONS.  113 

"  Guest  I  am  and  servant,  both  in  one, 
and  must  be  so  awhile.  Winter  is  on  us. 
The  fire  feels  snow.  It  putters  as  if  the 
flakes  were  falling  in  it.  It  is  a  sign  that 
never  lies.  Hark !  you  can  hear  the  konk 
of  geese  as  they  wedge  southward.  The 
winter  will  be  long,  but  I  must  stay." 

"And  are  you  sorry  you  must  stay?"  re- 
plied the  girl.  "  I  will  do  what  I  may  to 
make  the  days  and  nights  pass  swiftly." 

"  Nay,  nay,  you  do  mistake,"  returned  the 
Trapper.  "  I  am  not  sorry  for  myself,  but 
thee.  If  I  may  only  help  thee :  how  can  I 
help  thee?" 

"John  Norton,"  replied  the  girl,  and  she 
spoke  with  sweet  earnestness  as  when  the 
heart  is  vocal,  "  thou  art  a  man,  and  wise  ; 
I  am  a  girl,  and  know  nought  save  books. 


114  MA  MELONS. 

But  you,  you  have  seen  many  men  and  tribes 
of  men  ;  counciled  with  chiefs,  been  comrade 
with  the  great,  sharing  their  inner  thoughts 
in  peace  and  war,  and  thou  hast  done  great 
deeds  thyself,  of  which  fame  speaks  widely. 
Why  do  you  cheapen  your  own  value  so, 
calling  thyself  a  common  man  ?  My  uncle 
said  you  were  the  best,  the  bravest,  and  the 
wisest  man  he  ever  met,  and  he  had  sat  with 
kings  and  chiefs,  and  heard  the  best  men 
of  both  worlds  tell  all  they  knew.  Dear 
friend,  wilt  thou  not  be  my  teacher,  and 
teach  me  that,  which  lieth  now,  like  treasure 
hidden,  locked  in  thy  silence  ? " 

"  I  teach  thee !  "  exclaimed  the  Trapper. 
"  I,  an  unlettered  man,  a  hunter  of  the 
woods,  teach  one  who  readeth  every  tongue, 
who  knoweth  all  the  past,  to  the  beginning 


MAMELONS.  I  I  5 

of  the  world,  whose  head  has  in  it  all  these 
shelves  of  knowledge,"  and  the  Trapper 
swept  a  gesture  toward  the  thousand  books 
that  thickened  the  great  hall  from  floor  to 
ceiling.  "  I  teach  thee  !  " 

"  Yes,  you,"  answered  the  girl.  "  You  can 
teach  me,  or  any  woman  that  ever  lived,  or 
any  man.  For  you  were  given  at  your  birth 
the  seeing  eye,  the  listening  ear,  and  the 
still  patience  of  the  mountain  cat,  which  on 
the  bare  bough  sits  watching,  from  sunset 
until  sunrise,  motionless.  In  the  old  days 
such  gifts  meant  wisdom,  wider,  deeper,  more 
exact  than  that  of  books,  for  so  my  mother 
often,  told  me.  She  said  the  wisest  men 
who  ever  lived  were  those  who,  in  deep 
woods  and  caves  and  on  the  shore  of  seas, 
saw,  heard,  and  pondered  on  the  life  and 


Il6  MAMELONS. 

mysteries  of  nature,  noting  all  things,  small 
and  great,  cause  and  effect,  tracing  out  con- 
nections which  interlace  the  parts  into  one 
whole,  so  making  one  solid  woof  of  knowl- 
edge, covering  all  the  world  of  fact  and 
substance  in  the  end.  And  once,  when  you 
were  in  the  mood,  and  had  been  talking  in 
the  hall,  drawn  on  and  out  by  her,  you  told 
of  climes  and  places  you  had  seen,  and 
strange  things  met  in  wandering,  of  great 
mounds  builded  by  some  ancient  race,  long 
dead ;  of  cities,  under  sunset,  still  standing 
solid,  without  men ;  of  tall  and  shapely  pil- 
lars, writ  with  mystic  characters,  on  the  far 
shore  of  the  mild  sea,  whence  sailed  the  old 
dead  of  my  race,  at  dying,  far  away  to  west- 
ern heavens,  where  to-day  they  live ;  of 
caverns  in  deep  earth,  made  glorious  with 


MAMELONS.  I  I  7 

crystals,  stalactites,  prisms,  and  shining  orna- 
ments, where,  in  old  time  the  gods  of 
the  under  world  were  chambered  ;  of  trees 
that  mingled  bloom  and  fruitage  the  long 
year  through,  and  flowers  that  never  faded 
till  the  root  died  out;  of  creeping  reptiles, 
snakes,  and  savage  poisonous  things  that 
struck  to  kill,  and  of  their  antidotes,  grow- 
ing for  man  and  beast  amid  the  very  grasses 
where  they  secreted  venom ;  of  rivers  wide 
and  deep,  boiling  up  through  solid  earth, 
full-tided,  which,  flowing  widely  on,  dropped 
suddenly  like  a  plummet  .to  the  centre  of 
the  world  ;  of  plains,  fenced  by  the  sky,  far 
reaching  as  the  level  sea,  so  that  the  red  sun 
rose  and  set  in  grasses ;  of  fires  which,  lit 
by  lightning,  blackened  the  stars  with  smoke 
and  burned  all  the  world  ;  of  oceans  in  the 


Ilg  MA  MELONS. 

west,  which,  flowing  with  joint  floods,  fell 
over  mountains,  plunging  their  weights  of 
water  sheer  downward,  so  that  the  rocky 
framework  of  the  round  earth  shook ;  of 
winds  that  blew  as  out  of  chaos,  revolving 
on  a  hollow  axis  like  a  wheel  buzzing,  invis- 
ible, charged  to  the  centre  with  electric  force, 
and  fires  which  burst  explosive,  kindling  the 
air  like  tinder ;  and  of  ten  thousand  mar- 
vels and  curious  things,  which  you  have  met, 
noted,  and  pondered  on,  seeking  to  know 
the  primal  fact  or  force  which  underlaid 
them.  So  that  my  mother  said  that  night, 
when  we  were  in  our  chamber,  that  you  were 
the  wisest  man  she  ever  met ;  wise  with  the 
wisdom  of  her  ancient  folk,  whose  knowl- 
edge lived,  oral  and  terse,  before  the  habit 
of  bookmaking  came  to  rive  the  solid  sub- 


MAMELONS.  119 

stance,  heavy  and  rich,  into  thin  veneer,  to 
make  vain  show  for  fools  to  wonder  at. 
Teach  me !  Who  might  thou  not  teach, 
thou  seeing-,  silent  man,  type  of  my  first 
fathers,  who,  gifted  with  rare  senses  and  with 
wit  to  question  nature  and  to  learn  mastered 
all  wisdom  before  books  were." 

"  Aye,  aye,"  returned  the  Trapper,  not  dis- 
pleased to  hear  her  praise  as  rare  what 
seemed  to  him  so  common,  "  these  things 
I  know  in  truth,  for  I  have  wandered  far, 
seen  much,  and  noted  closely,  and  he  who 
sleeps  in  woods  has  time  to  think.  But, 
girl,  I  am  an  unlearned  man,  and  know 
naught  of  books." 

"  Books  !  "  exclaimed  the  girl.  "  What  are 
books  but  oral  knowledge  spread  out  in 
words  which  lack  the  fire  of  forceful  utter- 


I  20  Af  A  MELONS. 

ance  ?  But  you  shall  know  them.  The  win- 
ter days  are  short,  the  nights  are  long ;  our 
toil  is  simple ;  wood  for  the  fire,  food  for 
the  table,  and  a  swift  push  each  day  along 
the  snow  for  exercise ;  or,  if  the  winds  will 
keep  some  acres  clean,  our  skates  shall  ring 
to  the  smitten  ice,  piercing  it  with  tremblings 
till  all  the  shores  cry  out.  All  other  hours 
for  sleep  and  books.  I  read  in  seven 
tongues,  one  so  old  that  none  save  I  in  all 
the  world  can  read  it ;  for  it  was  writ  when 
letters  were  a  mystery,  known  only  unto 
those  who  fed  the  sacred  fire  and  kept  God's 
altars  warm.  And  I  will  read  you  all  the 
wisdom  of  the  world,  and  its  rare  laughter, 
which,  mother  said,  was  the  fine  effervesce 
of  wisdom,  the  pungent  foam  and  sparkle 
of  it.  So  you  shall  know.  And  one  old 


MAMELONS.  121 

scroll  there  is,  rolled  in  foil  of  gold,  sealed 
with  the  serpent  seal,  symbol  of  eternity, 
scribed  with  pictured  knowledge,  an  heirloom 
of  my  race,  whose  key  alone  I  have,  writ  in 
rainbow  colors,  when  the  world  was  young, 
the  language  of  the  gods,  who  first  made 
signs  for  speech  and  put  the  speaking  mouth 
upon  a  page.  It  was  the  first  I  learned.  My 
mother  taught  it  to  me  standing  at  her  knee 
—  for  so  the  law  says  it  shall  be  done,  a 
law  old  with  twice  ten  thousand  years  of 
age  —  that  he  who  knows  this  scroll  shall 
teach  it,  under  silence,  to  his  or  her  first 
born,  standing  at  knee,  that  the  old  knowl- 
edge of  prime  things  and  days  may  not 
perish  from  the  earth  it  tells  of,  but  live  on 
forever  while  the  earth  endures.  For  on  it 
is  the  record  of  the  beginning,  told  by  those 


122  MAMELONS. 

who    saw    it ;    of   the   first    man    and    how    he 

came  to  be  ;  of  woman,  first,  when  born  and 
of  what  style.  A  list  of  healing  simples, 
antidotes  'gainst  death,  and  of  rare  oils  which 
search  the  bones  and  members  of  the  mor- 
tal frame  and  banish  pain ;  and  others  yet, 
sweet  to  the  nose,  and  volatile,  that  make 
the  face  to  shine,  for  feasts  and  happy  days, 
and  being  poured  on  women,  make  their  skin 
softer  than  down,  whiter  than  drifted  snow, 
and  so  clean  and  clear  that  the  rich  blood 
pinks  through  it  like  a  red  rose  centred  in 
crystal.  And  on  it,  too,  is  \vritten  other  and 
strange  rules,  wild  and  weird.  How  one 
may  have  the  seeing  eye  come  to  him. 
How  to  call  up  the  wicked  dead  from  under 
ground,  and  summon  from  their  heaven  in 
the  west,  where  they  live  and  love,  the 


MAMELONS.  123 

blessed.  How  marriage  came  to  man  with 
woman.  What  part  is  his  to  act  and  what 
part  hers,  that  each  may  be  a  joy  to  other, 
and  she  thus  honored,  be  as  sweet  slip 
grafted  on  a  vital  trunk,  full  flowered  in  full- 
est growth,  and  fruitful  of  what  the  old  gods 
loved,  children,  healthy,  fair,  and  strong ;  all 
will  I  read  thee,  talking  as  we  read,  that  we, 
with  sharpened  thought,  may  bite  through  to 
the  vital  gist,  deep  centred  within  the  hard 
rind  of  words,  and  taste  the  living  sweetness 
of  true  sense.  So  will  we  teach  each  other 
and  grow  wise  equally  ;  you,  me  the  knowl- 
edge of  things  and  places  you  have  seen  ; 
I,  you  the  knowledge  writ  in  books  that  I 
have  read." 


CHAPTER   IV. 

LOVE'S  VICTORY. 

IV  TEXT  day,  the  Trapper's  sign  proved  true. 
Winter  fell  whitely  on  the  world.  Its 
soft  fleece  floated  downward  to  the  earth 
whiter  than  washed  wools.  The  waters  of  the 
lake  blackened  in  contrast  to  the  shores.  The 
flying  leaves  —  tardy  vagrants  from  the  branch 
— were  smothered  'mid  the  flakes,  and  dropped 
like  shot  birds.  Toward  night  the  wind  arose. 
The  forest  moaned.  At  sunset,  in  the  gray 
gloom,  a  flock  of  ducks  roared  southward 
through  the  whirling  storm.  A  field  of  geese, 
leaderless,  bewildered,  blinded  by  the  driving 

flakes,  scented  water,  and,  like   a  noisy  mob, 

124 


MAMELOAS.  125 

fell,  with  a  mighty  splash,  into  the  lake. 
Summer  went  with  the  day,  and  with  the 
night  came  winter,  white,  cold,  and  stormy, 
roaring  violently  through  the  air. 

In  the  great  hall  sat  the  two.  The  logs 
on  the  wide  hearth  piled  high,  glowed  red 
—  a  solid  coal  from  end  to  end,  cracked  with 
concentric  rings.  They  reddened  the  hall, 
books,  skins,  and  antlered  trophies  of  the 
chase.  The  strong  man  and  the  -girl's  dark 
face  stood  forth  in  the  warm  luminance,  pre- 
Raphaelite.  The  Trapper  sat  in  a  great  chair, 
built  solidly  of  rounded  wood,  untouched  by 
tool,  but  softly  cushioned.  The  girl,  recum- 
bent, rested  on  a  pile  of  skins,  black  with 
the  glossy  blackness  of  the  bear,  full  furred. 
Her  dress,  a  garnet  velvet,  from  the  looms 
of  France.  Her  moccasins,  snow  white.  On 


126  MAMELONS. 

either  wrist  a  serpent  coil  of  gold.  A  dia- 
mond at  her  throat.  A  red  fez  on  her  head, 
while  over  her  rich  dress  the  glossy  masses 
of  her  hair  fell  tangled  to  her  feet.  She  read 
from  an  old  book,  bound  with  rich  plush, 
whose  leaves  were  vellum,  edged  with  artful 
garniture  and  lettered  richly  with  crimson  ink 
—  a  precious  relic  of  old  literature,  saved  from 
those  vandal  flames  which  burned  the  stored 
knowledge  of  the  world  to  ashes  at  Alexan- 
dria. The  characters  were  Phoenician,  and 
told  the  story  of  that  race  to  which  we  owe 
our  modern  alphabet ;  whose  ships,  a  thou- 
sand years  before  the  Christ,  went  freighted 
with  letters,  seeking  baser  commerce,  to  every 
shore  of  the  wide  world.  She  read  by  the 
fire's  red  light,  and  the  ruddy  glow  fell  viv- 
idly on  the  pictured  page,  the  rich  dress  out- 


MAMELONS.  127 

lining  her  full  form  and  the  swarth  beauty 
of  her  face.  It  was  the  story  of  an  old  race 
—  no  library  has  it  now — the  story  of  their 
rise,  their  glory,  and  their  fall.  She  read  for 
hours,  pausing  here  and  there  to  tell  her  lis- 
tener of  connecting  things  —  of  Rome  that 
was  not  then  ;  of  Greece  yet  to  be  born  ;  of 
Egypt,  swarming  on  the  Nile  and  building 
monuments  for  eternity,  and  of  her  ancient 
race,  west  of  the  tideless  sea,  whose  annals, 
even  then,  reached  backward  through  ten 
thousand  years,  thus  making  clear  what  other- 
wise were  dark,  and  teaching  him  all  history. 
So  passed  the  hours  till  midnight  struck. 
Then  she  arose,  and  lifting  goblet  half-filled 
with  water,  poured  it  on  the  hearth,  saying: 
"  I  spill  this  water  to  a  race  whose  going 
emptied  half  the  world."  This  solemnly,  for 


128  MAMELONS. 

she  was  of  the  past,  and  held  to  its  old  fash- 
ions, knowing  all  its  symbolism,  its  rites,  its 
daily  customs,  and  what  they  meant,  for  so 
she  had  been  taught,  and  nothing  else,  by 
her  whose  blood  and  beauty  she  repeated. 
Then  took  the  Trapper's  hand  and  laid  it  on 
her  head,  bent  low,  and  said  :  "  Dear  friend, 
I  am  so  glad  to  serve  you.  I  have  enjoyed 
this  night  beyond  all  nights  I  ever  knew.  I 
hope  for  many  others  like  to  it,  and  even 
sweeter."  And  saying  this  she  looked  with 
glad  and  peaceful  eyes  into  his  face,  and 
glided  noiselessly  from  the  room. 

The  Trapper  piled  high  the  logs  again, 
and,  lying  down  upon  the  skins  where  she 
had  lain,  gazed  with  wide  eyes  into  the  coals. 
The  gray  was  in  the  sky  before  he  slept,  and 
in  his  sleep  he  murmured:  "It  cannot  be.  I 


MAMELONS.  129 

am  an  unlearned  man  and  poor.  I  am  not 
fit."  Above  him  in  her  chamber,  nestling  in 
sleep,  the  girl  sighed  in  her  dreams  and 
murmured  ;  "  How  blind  he  is  !  "  And  then  : 
"My  love  shall  win  him!" 

Dear  girl,  sweet  soul  of  womanhood,  gift 
to  these  gilded  days  from  the  old  solid  past, 
I  would  the  thought  had  never  come  to  me 
to  tell  this  tale  of  Mamelons  ! 

So  went  the  winter ;  and  so  the  two  grew 
upward  side  by  side  in  knowledge.  He 
learning  of  the  past  as  taught  in  books ; 
of  men  lonp-  dead  whose  names  had  been  un- 

<:_> 

known  to  him ;  of  deeds  done  by  the  mighty 
of  the  world ;  of  cities,  monuments,  tombs 
long  buried  ;  of  races  who  mastered  the  world 
and  died  mastered  by  their  own  weaknesses ; 
of  faiths,  philosophies,  and  creeds  once  bright 


130  MAMELONS. 

and  strong  as  fire,  now  cold  and  weak  as 
sodden  ashes ;  of  vanished  rites  and  mysteries 
and  lost  arts  which  once  were  the  world's 
wonder  —  all  were  unfolded  to  him,  so  that 
his  strong  mind  grasped  the  main  point  of 
each  and  understood  the  whole.  And  she 
learned  much  from  him ;  of  bird  and  beast 
and  fish ;  of  climates  and  their  growths ;  of 
rocks  and  trees ;  of  nature's  signs  and  move- 
ments by  day  and  night ;  of  wandering  tribes 
and  mongrel  races ;  the  lore  of  woods  and 
waters  and  the  differences  in  governments 
which  shape  the  lives  of  men.  So  taught 
they  each  the  other ;  she,  swift  of  thought 
and  full  of  eastern  fire ;  he,  slower  minded, 
but  calm,  sagacious,  comprehensive,  remem- 
bering all  and  settling  all  in  wise  conclusion. 
Two  better  halves,  in  mind  and  soul  and 


MAMELONS.  1 3  I 

body,  to  make  a  perfect  whole,  were  never 
brought  by  fate  together  since  God  made 
male  and  female.  The  past  and  present,  fire 
and  wood,  fancy  and  judgment,  beauty  to 
win  and  strength  to  hold,  sound  minds  in 
sound  bodies,  the  perfect  womanhood  and  man- 
hood ideal,  typical,  met,  conjoined  in  them. 

Slowly  she  won  him.  Slowly  she  drew 
him,  with  the  innocence  of  loving,  to  one- 
ness in  wish  and  thought  and  feeling,  with 
her  sweet  self.  Slowly,  as  the  moon  lifts 
the  great  tide,  she  lifted  him  toward  her, 
until  his  nature  stood  highest,  full  flooded, 
nigh,  bathed  in  all  the  wide,  deep  flowing  of 
its  greatness,  in  her  white  radiance.  It  was 
an  angel's  mission,  and  all  the  wild  passion 
of  her  blood,  original,  barbaric,  was  sobered 
with  reverent  thought  of  the  great  destiny 


132  MAMELONS. 

that  she,  wedded  to  him,  stood  heir  to.  She 
had  no  other  hope,  nor  wish,  nor  dream,  than 
to  be  his.  She  was  all  woman.  This  life  was 
all  to  her.  She  had  no  future.  If  she  had, 
she  wisely  put  it  by  until  she  came  to  it.  She 
took  no  thought  of  far  to-morrow.  Sufficient 
for  the  day  was  the  joy  or  sorrow  of  it.  She 
lived.  She  loved.  That  was  enough.  What 
more  might  be  to  woman  than  to  live,  to 
love,  worship  her  husband  and  bear  children  ? 
Such  life  were  heaven.  If  other  heaven  there 
were  she  could  not  crave  it,  being  satisfied. 
So  felt  she.  So  had  she  felt.  So  acted  that 
it  might  be ;  and  now,  at  last,  she  stood  on 
that  white  line  each  perfect  woman  climbs 
to,  passing  which,  radiant,  content,  grateful, 
she  enters  —  heaven. 


MAMELONS.  133 

Spring  came.  Heat  touched  the  snow,  and 
it  grew  liquid.  The  hills  murmured  as  with 
many  tongues,  and  low  music  flowed  rippling 
down  their  sides.  The  warm  earth  sweetened 
with  odors.  Sap  stirred  in  root  and  bough, 
and  the  fibred  sod  thrilled  with  delicious  pas- 
sages of  new  life. 

From  the  far  South  came  flaming  plumage, 
breasts  of  gold  and  winged  music  to  the 
groves.  The  pent  roots  of  herbs,  spiced  and 
pungent,  burst  upward  through  the  moistened 
mould,  and  breathed  wild,  gamy  odors  through 
the  woods.  The  skeleton  trees  thickened  with 
leaf  formations,  and  hid  their  naked  grayness 
under  green  and  gold.  Each  day  birds  of 
passage,  pressed  by  parental  instinct,  slanted 
wings  toward  the  lake,  and,  sailing  inward, 
to  secluded  bays,  made  haste  to  search  for 


134  MA  MELONS. 

nests.  Mother  otters  swam  heavy  through 
the  tide,  and  the  great  turtles,  lumbering  from 
the  water,  digged  deep  pits  under  starlight, 
in  the  sand,  and  cunningly  piled  their  pyra- 
mid of  €ggs.  All  nature  loved  and  mated, 
each  class  of  life  in  its  own  order,  and  God 
began  the  re-creation  of  the  world. 

The  two  were  standing  under  leafy  screen 
on  the  lake's  shore,  the  warm  sun  overhead 
and  the  wide  water  lying  level  at  their  feet. 
Nature's  mood  was  on  them,  and  their 
hearts,  like  equal  atmospheres,  flowed  to 
sweet  union.  Reverently  they  spoke,  as  soul 
to  soul,  concealing  nothing,  having  nothing 
to  conceal,  of  their  deep  feeling  and  of  duty 
unto  each.  The  girl  held  up  her  clean,  sweet 
nature  unto  him,  that  he  might  see  it,  wholly 
his  forever ;  and  he  kept  nothing  back.  She 


MAMELONS.          .  135 

knew  he  loved  her,  and  to  her  the  task  to 
make  him  feel  the  -honor  she  received  in 
being-  loved  by  him.  So  stood  they,  alone 
in  the  deep  woods,  apart  from  men,  in  grave, 
sweet  counsel.  Thus  spake  the  man  : 

"  I  love  you,  Atla ;  you  know  it.  I  would 
lay  down  my  life  for  you.  But  our  marriage 
may  not  be.  I  am  too  old." 

"Too  old!"  replied  the  girl.  "Thou  hast 
seen  forty  years,  I  twenty.  Thou  art  the 
riper,  sweeter,  better ;  that  is  all.  I  would 
not  wed  a  boy.  The  women  of  our  race 
have  wedded  men,  big  bodied,  strong  to 
fight,  to  save,  to  make  home  safe,  their  coun- 
try free,  and  fame,  that  richest  heritage  to 
children.  My  mother  broke  the  rule,  and 
rued  it.  She  might  have  rued  it  worse  had 
death  not  cut  the  tightening  error  which 


136  MA  MELONS. 

knotted  her  to  coming  torture.  My  heart 
holds  hard  to  the  old  law  made  for  the 
women  of  our  race  by  ancient  wisdom ; 
'  Wed  not  boys,  but  wed  grave  and  gentle 
men.  For  women  would  be  ruled,  and  who, 
of  pride  and  fire,  would  be  ruled  by  strip- 
lings ? '  And  again :  '  Let  ivy  seek  the  full- 
grown  oak,  nor  cling  to  saplings.'  I  love 
the  laws  that  were,  love  the  old  faiths  and 
customs.  They  filled  the  world  with  beauty 
and  brave  men.  They  gave  great  nature 
opportunity  to  keep  great,  kept  noble  blood 
from  base,  strength  from  wedding  weakness, 
and  barred  out  mongrelism  from  the  world, 
which  in  the  ancient  days  was  deadliest  sin, 
corrupting  all.  O  love!  you  do  mistake, 
saying  '  I  am  too  old.'  For  women  have 
ever  the  child's  habit  in  them.  They  love 


MAMELONS.  137 

to  be  held  in  arms,  love  to  look  up  to  lov- 
ing eyes,  love  to  be  commanded,  and  obey 
strong  sovereignty.  The  husband  is  head  — 
head  of  the  house.  He  sits  in  wide  au- 
thority, and  from  his  wisdom  flow  counsel, 
command,  which  all  the  house,  wife,  children, 
and  servants,  bend  to,  obedient.  How  can 
a  stripling  fill  such  seat  ?  How  sit  such  dig- 
nity on  a  beardless  face  ?  How,  save  from 
seasoned  strength,  such  safety  come  to  all  ? 
O  full  grown  man  !  be  oak  to  me,  and  let 
me  twine  my  weakness  round  thy  strength, 
that  I  may  find  safe  lodgment,  nor  be  shaken 
in  my  roots  when  storms  blow  strong.  Too 
old !  I  would  thy  head  were  sown  with  the 
white  rime  of  added  years.  So  should  I 
love  thee  more  !  " 

Ah    me,  such    pleading   from    love's  mouth, 


138  MAMELONS. 

such    sweet   entreaty    from    love's    heart    man 
never  heard  before,   in   these  raw  clays,   when 
callow  youth   is  fondled  by  weak  women,  and 
boys  with  starting  beards  push  wisdom,   gray 
and  grave,   from  council   chairs. 
Then,  in   reply,  the  Trapper  said : 
"  Atla,    it    cannot    be.      I    will    admit    that 
you     say,     sooth,     my    years    do    not    forbid. 
Boys    are    rash,    hot-headed,  quick  of  tongue, 
ill-mannered,  lacking  patience,  just  sense,  and 
slow-mannered   gentleness   which    comes   with 
added  years,  and  that  deep  knowledge  which 
slows   blood    and    gentles    speech,    and    I    do 
see   that  you  fit  well  to   these,  and  would  be 
happier   with    a    man    thus    charactered.      But, 
letting    that    go    by  —  and    all    my    heart    is 
grateful  that   it   may  —  still  marriage  may  not 
be    between    us,   for  thou    art    rich    and  I   am 


MA  MELONS.  139 

poor,  and  so  it  should  not  be.  For  husband 
should  own  house ;  the  wife  make  home. 
What  say  you,  am  I  right  or  wrong?" 

To  which  the  girl  made  answer:  "Thou  art 
an  old-time  man,  John  Norton,  and  this  judg- 
ment fits  the  ancient  wisdom.  For  in  the 
beginning  so  it  was.  The  male  built  nest, 
the  female  feathered  it  with  song.  So  each 
had  part  in  common  ministry.  The  man  was 
greater,  richer,  than  the  woman,  and  with 
earthly  substance  did  endow.  And  she  in 
turn  gave  sweet  companionship,  and  sang 
loneliness  from  his  life  with  mother  songs 
and  children's  prattle.  Thus  in  the  begin- 
ning. Yea,  thou  art  right,  as  thou  art  always 
right.  For,  being  sound  in  heart  and  head, 
thou  canst  not  err.  Thy  judgment  goes 
straight  to  the  centre  of  the  truth  as  goes  thy 


140  MAMELONS. 

bullet.  But  as  men  lived  and  died,  change 
came  to  the  first  order.  For  men  without 
male  issue  died  and  left  great  dower  to  girls. 
Women,  by  no  fault  of  theirs,  nor  lack  of 
modesty,  grew  rich  by  gifts  of  death,  which 
are  the  gifts  of  fate.  And  changing  circum- 
stance changed  all,  making  the  old  law  void. 
The  gods  pondered,  and  a  new  order  rose. 
By  chance,  at  first,  then  by  ordainment,  roy- 
alty left  male  and  followed  female  blood,  be- 
cause their  blood  was  truer  to  itself,  less 
vagrant,  purer,  better  kept.  And  women  of 
red  blood  and  pure,  clothed  in  royalty  from 
shame,  made  alliances  with  men  whom  their 
souls  loved,  and  gave  rank,  wealth,  and  their 
sweet  selves  in  lavishness  of  loving,  which 
gives  all  and  keeps  nothing  back.  Such  was 
the  habit  of  my  race  and  line  from  age  to 


MAMELOXS.  141 

age,  even  as  I  read  you  from  the  pictured 
scroll,  rolled  in  foil  of  gold,  that  only  I,  of 
all  the  world,  can  read ;  and  if  I  die,  leaving 
no  child,  the  golden  secret,  goes  with  me  to 
the  gods,  and  all  the  ancient  lore  is  lost  to 
men  forever.  This  to  assist  your  judgment 
and  make  the  scales  hang  level  from  your 
hand  for  just  decision.  Am  I  to  blame  be- 
cause I  stand  as  heir  to  ancient  blood  and 
wealth  ?  Shall  these  wide  acres,  gold  in  yon- 
der house,  gems  in  casket,  and  diamonds 
worn  for  ten  thousand  years  by  women  of 
my  race,  queens  of  the  olden  time,  when  in 
their  hands  they  lifted  world-wide  sceptres, 
divide  thee  and  me  ?  Has  love  no  weight  in 
the  just  scales  you,  by  the  working  of  some 
old  fate,  I  know  not  what,  hold  over  me  and 
my  soul's  wish  to-day?  Be  just  to  your  own 


142  MA  MELONS. 

soul,  be  just  to  mine,  and  fling-  these  doubts 
aside  as  settled  forever  by  the  mighty  Power 
that  works  in  darkness,  and  through  darkness, 
to  the  light,  shaping  our  fates  and  ordering 
life  and  death,  joy  and  grief,  beyond  our 
power  to  fix  or  change.  Blown  by  two  winds, 
whose  coming  and  going  we  list  not,  we,  two, 
meet  here.  Strong  art  thou  and  I  am  weak, 
but  shall  thy  strength  repel  my  weakness? 
Rich,  without  fault,  I  am.  My  blood  is  older 
than  these  hills,  purer  than  yonder  water,  and 
wilt  thou  make  an  accident,  light  as  a  feather 
in  just  balances,  outweigh  a  fact  sweet  as 
heaven,  heavy  as  fate  ?  The  queens  of  old, 
whose  blood  is  one  with  mine,  who  spake 
the  self- same  tongue  and  loved  the  self- same 
way,  chose  men  to  be  their  kings ;  so  I,  by 
the  same  law,  choose  thee.  Be  thou  my  king. 


MA  MELONS.  143 

Rule  me  in  love.  By  the  old  right  and  rule 
of  all  my  race,  I  place  thy  hand  upon  my 
head,  and  so  pass  under  yoke.  I  am  thy 
subject,  and  all  my  days  shall  be  a  sweet 
subjection.  Do  with  me  as  thou  wilt.  I 
make  no  terms.  My  feet  shall  walk  with 
thine  to  the  dark  edge  of  death.  Further  I 
know  not.  This  life  we  may  make  sure.  The 
next  is  or  is  not  ours  to  order.  No  man  may 
say.  Lord  of  my  earthly  life,  take  me,  take 
me  to  thy  arms,  that  I,  last  of  an  old  race, 
last  of  its  blood,  left  sole  in  all  the  world,  with- 
out father,  mother,  friend,  may  feel  I  am  be- 
loved by  him  I  worship,  and  drink  one  glad, 
sweet  cup  before  I  go  to  touch  the  bitter 
edge  of  dubious  chance  at  Mamelons." 

Then    love    prevailed.       Doubt    went    from 
out     his     soul.        His     nature,     unrestrained, 


144  MA  MELONS. 

leaped  up  in  a  red  rush  of  joy  to  eyes  and 
face.  He  lifted  hands  and  opened  arms  to 
her.  To  them  she  swept,  as  bird  into  safe 
thicket,  chased  by  hawk,  with  a  glad  cry. 
Panting  she  lay  upon  his  bosom,  trembling 
through  all  her  frame,  placed  mouth  to  his 
and  lost  all  sense  but  feeling.  Then,  with  a 
gasp,  drew  back  and  lifted  dewy  eyes  to  his, 
as  fed  child  to  nursing  mother's  face,  or  saint 
her  worshiping  gaze  to  God. 

But  the  gods  of  her  old  race,  standing 
beyond  sunset,  lifted  high,  saw,  farther  on, 
the  sandy  slope  of  Mamelons,  and,  while 
she  lay  in  heaven  on  her  lover  s  breast,  they 
bent  low  their  heads  and  wept. 

Spring  multiplied  its  days  and  growths. 
Night  followed  night  as  star  follows  star  in 


MAMELONS.  145 

their  far  circuits,  wheeling  forever  on.  Each 
morn  brought  sweet  surprise  to  each.  For 
like  the  growths  of  nature  so  grew  their  love 
fuller  with  bloom  each  morn  ;  with  fragrance 
fuller  each  dewy  night.  Her  nature,  under 
love's  warmth,  grew  richer,  seeding  at  its 
core  for  sweeter,  larger  life.  His  borrowed 
tone  and  color  from  her  own,  and  fragrance. 
So,  in  the  happy  days  of  the  .long  spring, 
as  earth  grew  warmer,  sweeter  with  the  days, 
the  two  grew,  with  common  growth  and 
closer,  until  they  stood  in  primal  unity,  no 
longer  twain,  but  one. 

One  day  she  came,  and  put  her  hand  in 
his  .and  said  : 

"  Dear  love,  there  is  an  old  rite  by  which 

my    people     married.        It      bindeth     to     the 

.grave  ;    no    farther.     For   there   the   old    faith 


146  M 'A  MELONS. 

stopped,  not  knowing  what  life  might  be 
beyond,  or  by  whom  ordered.  Thine  goeth 
on  through  death  as  light  through  darkness, 
and  holds  the  hope  that  earthly  union  lasts 
forever.  It  may  be  so.  Perhaps  the  Gali- 
lean knew  better  than  the  gods  what  is  with- 
in the  veil,  for  so  the  symbol  is.  It  is  a 
winning  faith.  My  heart  accepts  it  as  a  happy 
chance ;  and,  did  it  not,  it  would  not  matter. 
Thy  faith  is  mine,  and  thine  shall  be  my 
God.  Perchance  the  ancient  deities  and  your 
modern  One  are  but  the  same,  with  different 
names.  We  worshiped  ours  with  fruits  and 
flowers  and  incense  ;  with  dancing  feet,  glad 
songs,  and  altars  garlanded  with  flowers ; 
moistened  with  wine ;  you,  yours  with  dole- 
ful music,  bare  rites,  the  beggary  of  petition 
and  cold  reasoning.  Ours  was  the  better 


MAMELONS.  147 

fashion,  for  it  kept  the  happy  habits  up  of 
children,  gladly  grateful  for  father  gifts,  and 
so  prolonged  the  joyous  childhood  of  the 
world.  But  in  this  thy  faith  is  better  —  it 
hangs  a  star  above  the  tide  of  death  for  love 
to  steer  by.  My  heart  accepts  the  sign. 
Thy  faith  is  mine.  We  will  go  down  to 
Mamelons,  and  there  be  married  by  the  holy 
man  who  wears  upon  his  breast  the  sign 
you  trust  to." 

"  Nay,  nay ;  it  shall  not  be,"  exclaimed 
the  Trapper.  "  Atla,  thou  shalt  not  go  to 
Mamelons.  There  waits  the  doom  for  the 
mixed  blood.  There  died  thy  father,  and 
all  its  sands  are  full  of  moldering  men.  We 
will  be  married  here  by  the  old  custom  of 
thy  people,  and  God,  who  looketh  at  the 
heart  and  knoweth  all,  will  bless  us." 


148  MAMELONS. 

"  Dear  love,"  returned  the  girl,  "  thy  word 
is  law  to  me.  I  have  no  other.  It  shall  be 
as  thou  wilt.  But  listen  to  my  folly  or  my 
wisdom,  I  know  not  which  it  is :  I  fear  not 
Mamelons. '  There  is  no  coward  blood  in 
me.  The  women  of  our  race  face  fate  with 
open  eyes.  So  it  has  been  from  the  begin- 
ning. Death  sees  no  pallor  in  our  cheeks. 
To  love  we  say  farewell,  then  graveward  go 
with  steady  steps.  The  women  of  my  house 
—  a  lengthy  line,  stretching  downward  from 
the  past  beyond  annals  —  whose  blood  flows 
red  in  me,  lived  queens,  and,  dying,  died  as 
they  lived.  I  would  die  so  ;  lest,  if  thy  faith 
is  true,  they  would  not  own  me  kin  nor  give 
me  place  among  them  when  I  came,  if  I 
feared  fate  or  death.  Besides,  the  doom  may 
not  hold  good  toward  me.  I  know  my  uncle 


MAMELONS.  149 

saw  the  sight ;  but  he  was  only  Tortoise,  a 
branch  blown  far  from  the  old  tree  and  lost 
a  thousand  years  amid  strange  peoples,  and 
his  sight  could  not,  therefore,  be  sure. 
Moreover,  love,  if  the  curse  holds,  and  I  am 
under  doom,  how  may  I  escape  ?  For  fate 
is  fate,  and  he  who  runs,  runs  quickest 
into  it.  So  let  us  go,  I  pray,  to  Mame- 
lons,  and  there  be  married  by  the  holy  man, 
the  symbol '  on  whose  breast  was  known  to 
our  old  race  and  carved  on  altars  ten  thou- 
sand years  before  the  simple  Jew  was  born 

1  The  cross  as  a  symbol  is  traceable  through  all  the 
old  races,  even  the  remotest  in  point  of  time.  It  was 
originally  a  symbol  of  plenty  and  joy,  and  so  stood 
emblematic  of  happiness  for  tens  of  thousands  of  years. 
The  Romans  connected  it  with  their  criminal  law,  as 
we  have  the  gallows,  and  so  it  became  a  symbol  of 
shame  and  sorrow. 


150  MAMELONS. 

at  Bethlehem.  So  shall  the  symbol  of  the 
old  faith  and  the  new  be  for  the  first  time 
kissed  by  two  who  represent  the  sunrise  and 
the  sunset  of  the  world  ;  and  the  god  of 
morning  and  of  evening  be  proved  to  be  the 
same,  though  worshiped  under  different  names." 
He  yielded,  and  the  two  made  ready  to 
set  face  toward  Mamelons. 

There  was,  serving  in  her  house,  an  old 
red  servitor,  who  had  been  chief,  in  other 
days,  of  Mistassinni.1  His  dwindled  tribe 

1  This  lake  lies  to  the  northwest  of  Lake  St.  John  some 
300  miles,  and  within  some  200  miles  of  James'  Bay.  It 
was  first  discovered  by  white  men  in  the  person  of 
Pere  Abanel,  in  1661,  a  Jesuit  missionary,  en  route  to 
Hudson's  Bay.  This  is  the  lake  about  which  so  much 
has  been  said  in  Canada  and  the  States,  and  so  much 
printed.  In  fact,  very  little  is  accurately  known  of  it, 


MA  MELONS.  151 

lives  still  upon  the  lake  which  reaches  north- 
ward beyond  knowledge.  But  he,  longer 
than  her  life,  had  lived  in  the  great  house, 

unless  we  assume  that  the  late  survey  by  Mr.  Low  is 
to  be  regarded  as  a  settlement  of  the  matter  —  which 
few,  if  any,  acquainted  with  the  Mistassinni  question 
would  do.  Having  examined  all  the  data  bearing  on 
the  subject,  I  can  but  conclude  that  the  bit  of  water 
which  Mr.  Low  said  he  surveyed  was  only  a  small  arm 
or  branch  of  the  lake  reaching  south  from  it,  and  that 
the  Great  Mistassinni  itself  was  never  seen  by  Mr. 
Low,  much  less  surveyed.  Unless  we  concluded  with 
an  ancient  cynic  that  "All  men  are  liars,"  then  there 
surely  is  a  vast  body  of  water  known  to  the  natives 
as  Big  Mistassinni,  lying  in  the  wilderness  several  hun- 
dreds of  miles  from  Hudson's  Bay,  yet  to  be  visited 
and  surveyed  by  white  men.  Mista,  in  Indian  dialect, 
means  great,  and  sinni  means  a  stone  or  rock.  And 
hence  Mistassinni  means  the  "  Lake  of  Great  Stones 
or  Rocks."  The  Assinniboine,  or  Rocky  River,  Indians 
of  the  West  were  evidently  of  the  same  blood  and  lan- 
guage originally  with  these  red  men  of  the  northern  wilds. 


152  MA  MELONS. 

a  life-long  guest,  but  serving  it  in  his  wild 
fashion.  Warring  with  Nasquapees  and  Moun- 
taineers against  the  Esquimaux,  he  had  been 
overcome  in  ambush  and  in  the  centre  of  their 
camp  put  to  the  torture.  Grimly  he  stood 
the  test  of  fire,  not  making  moan  as  their 
knives  seamed  him  and  the  heated  spear 
points  seared.  Maddened,  one  pried  his  jaws 
apart  with  edge  of  hatchet,  and  tore  his 
tongue  out,  saying,  in  devilish  jest,  "  If  thou 
wilt  not  talk,  thou  hast  no  need  of  this,"  and 
ate  it  before  his  eyes.  Then  the  Chief,  with 
twice  a  hundred  braves,  burst  in  upon  them, 
and  whirled  the  hellish  brood,  in  roaring 
battle,  out  of  the  world.  The  Trapper, 
plunging  through  whirring  hatchets  and  red 
spear  points,  sent  the  cursed  fagots  flying 
that  blazed  upward  to  his  bloody  mouth  and 


MAMELONS.  153 

so  saved  him  to  the  world.  Crippled  beyond 
hope,  of  leadership,  he  left  his  tribe,  and, 
toiling-  slowly  through  the  woods,  came  to 
the  Chief  in  the  great  house  and  said,  in  the 
quick  language  of  silent  signs :  "I  am  no 
longer  chief —  I  cannot  fight.  Let  me  stay 
here  until  I  die."  Thus  came  he,  and  so 
stayed,  keeping,  through  many  years,  the 
larder  full  of  game  and  fish.  This  wrinkled 
withered  man  went  with  them,  paddling  his 
birch  slowly  on,  deep  ladened  with  needed 
stuffs  and  precious  things  for  dress  and  orna- 
ment at  the  marriage.  For  she  said :  "I 
will  put  on  the  raiment  of  my  race  when  my 
foremothers  reigned  o'er  half  the  world,  and 
their  banners,  woven  of  cloth  of  gold,  dark, 
with  an  emerald  island  at  the  centre,  waved 
over  ships  which  bore  the  trident  at  their 


1 54  MAMELONS. 

bows,  their  sailors  anchored  under  Mamelons 
a  thousand  and  a  thousand  years  before  Spain 
sprang  a  mushroom  from  the  old  Iberian 
mold.  I  will  stand  or  fall  forever,  Queen  at 
Mamelons."  So  said  she,  and  so  meant.  For 
all  her  blood  thrilled  with  the  haughty  cour- 
age of  that  past,  when  fate  was  faced  with 
open,  steady  eyes,  and  the  god  Death,  that 
moderns  tremble  at,  was  met  by  men  who 
gazed  into  his  gloomy  orbs  with  haughty 
stare  as  he  came  blackening  on.  So  silently 
the  silent  man  went  on  in  his  light  bark, 
loaded  with  robes,  heavy  with  flowered  gold, 
woven  of  old  in  looms  whose  soft  movements, 
going  deftly  to  and  fro,  sound  no  more,  leav- 
ing no  ripple  as  it  went,  steered  by  his 
withered  hands,  down  the  black  rivers  of  the 
north,  toward  feast  or  funeral  under  Mamelons. 


CHAPTER  V. 

AT     MAMELONS. 

OUMMER  was  at  its  hottest.  The  woods, 
^  sweltering  under  heavy  heat,  sweat  odors 
from  every  gummy  pore.  Flowers,  unless 
water-rooted,  withered  on  their  stalks.  The 
lumbering  moose  came  to  the  streams  and 
stayed.  The  hot  hills  drove  him  down.  The 
feathered  mothers  of  the  streams  led  down 
their  downy  progeny  to  wider  waters.  The 
days  were  hot  as  ovens  and  the  nights  dew- 
less.  The  soft  sky  hardened  and  shone 
brazen  from  pole  to  pole.  The  poplar  leaves 
shrank  from  their  trembling  twigs  and  the 
birches  shriveled  in  the  heat.  But  on  the 


156  MAMELONS. 

rivers  the  air  was  moist  and  cool,  lily-sweet- 
ened, and  above  their  heads,  at  night,  the  yel- 
low stars  swung  in  their  courses  like  golden 
globes,  large,  soft,  and  round.  So  the  two 
boats  went  on  through  lovely  lakes,  floating 
slowly  down  the  flowing  rivers  without  hap 
or  hazard,  till  they  came  to  the  last  portage, 
beyond  which  flowed  the  Stygian1  river,  whose 
gloomy  tide  flows  out  of  death  into  bright 
life  at  Mamelons. 

They  took  the  shortest  trail.  Straight  up 
it  ran  over  the  mighty  ridge  which  down- 
ward slopes  on  the  far  side,  eastward  to  that 

1  The  waters  of  the  Saguenay  are  unlike  those  of 
any  other  river  known.  They  are  a  purple-brown,  and, 
looked  at  en  masse,  are,  to  the  eye,  almost  black.-  This 
peculiar  color  gives  it  a  most  gloomy  and  grewsome  look, 
and  serves  to  vastly  deepen  the  profound  impression  its 
other  peculiar  characteristics  make  upon  the  mind. 


MAMELONS.  157 

strange  bay  men  call  Eternity.  It  was  an 
old  trail  only  ran  by  runners  who  ran  for 
life  and  death  when  war  blazed  suddenly  and 
tribes  were  summoned  in  hot  haste  to  rally. 
But  she  was  happy  hearted,  and,  half  jesting, 
half  in  earnest,  said :  "  Take  the  short  trail. 
My  heart  is  like  a  bird  flying  long  kept  from 
home.  Let  me  go  straight."  So  on  the  trail 
the  two  men  toiled  all  day,  while  she  played 
with  the  sands  upon  the  shore  and  crowned 
herself  with  lilies,  saying:  "The  queens  of 
my  old  line  loved  lilies.  I  will  have  lily  at 
my  throat  when  I  am  wed." 

So,  when  night  had  come,  the  boats  and  all 
their  lading  were  on  the  other  side,  and  they 
were  on  the  ridge,  which  sloped  either  way, 
the  sunset  at  their  backs,  the  gloomy  gorge 
ahead.  Then,  pausing  on  the  crest,  swept 


158  MAMELONS. 

to  its  rocks  by  rasping-  winds,  the  sunset  at 
her  back,  the  gloom  before,  she  said:  "Here 
will  we  bivouac.  The  sky  is  dewless,  and  the 
air  is  cool.  The  trail  from  this  runs  easy 
down.  I  would  start  with  sunrise  on  my 
face  toward  Mamelons." 

So  was  it  done,  and  they  made  camp  be- 
neath the  trees,  a  short  walk  from  the  ridge, 
where  the  great  spruce  stood  thickly,  and  a 
spring  boiled  upward  through  the  gravel,  cold 
as  ice. 

The  evening  passed  like  a  sweet  song 
through  dewy  air.  She  was  so  full  of  health, 
so  richly  gifted,  so  happy  in  her  heart,  so 
nigh  to  wedded  life  with  him  she  worshipped, 
that  her  soul  was  full  of  joyousness,  as  the 
lark's  throat,  soaring  skyward,  is  of  song. 
She  chattered  like  a  magpie  in  many  tongues, 


MA  MELONS.  159 

translating  rare  old  bits  of  foreign  wit  and 
ancient  mirth  with  apt  and  laughable  grim- 
aces. Her  face  was  mobile,  rounding  with 
jollity  or  lengthening  with  woe  at  wrill.  She 
had  the  light  foot  and  the  pliant  limb,  the 
superb  pose,  abandon,  and  the  languishing 
repose  of  her  old  race,  whose  princesses,  with 
velvet  feet,  tinkling  ankles,  and  forms  volup- 
tuous, lithe  as  snakes,  danced  before  kings 
and  won  kingdoms  with  applause  from  those 
whom,  by  their  wheeling,  swaying,  flashing 
beauty,  they  made  wild.  She  danced  the 
dances  of  the  East,  when  dancing  was  a  lan- 
guage and  a  worship,  with  pantomime  so  rare 
and  eloquent  that  the  pleased  eye  translated 
every  motion,  as  the  ear  catches  the  quick 
speech.  Then  sang  she  the  old  songs  of 
buried  days,  sad,  wild,  and  sweet  as  love  sing- 


160  MAMELONS. 

ing  at  death's  door  to  memory  and  to  hope ; 
the  song  of  joys  departed  and  of  joys  to 
come.  So  passed  the  evening  till  the  eastern 
stars,  wheeling  upward,  stood  in  the  zenith. 
Then  with  lingering  lips  she  kissed  her  lover 
on  the  mouth,  and  on  her  couch  of  fragrant 
boughs  fell  fast  asleep,  forgetful  of  all  things 
but  life  and  love ;  murmuring  softly  in  her 
happy  dreams,  "  To-morrow  night,"  and  after 
a  little  space,  again,  "  Sweet,  sweet  to- 
morrow !  " 

But  all  the  long  evening  through,  the  old 
tongueless  chief  of  measureless  Mistassinni 
sat  as  an  Indian  sits  when  death  is  coming  — 
back  straightened,  face  motionless,  and  eyes 
fixed  on  vacancy.  Not  till  the  girl  lay  sleep- 
ing on  the  boughs  did  he  stir  muscle.  Then 
he  rose  up,  and  with  dilating  nostrils  tested 


MAMELONS.  l6l 

the  air,  and  his  throat  rattled.  Then  put  his 
ear  to  earth,  as  man  to  wall,  listening  to  the 
voices  running  through  the  framework  of  the 
world,'  cast  cones  upon  the  dying  brands, 
and,  standing  in  the  light  made  by  the  gummy 
rolls,  said  to  the  Trapper  in  dumb  show : 
"  The  dead  are  moving.  The  earth  cracks 
beneath  the  leaves.  The  old  trail  is  filled 
with  warriors  hurrying  eastward  out  of  death. 
Their  spears  are  slanted  as  when  men  fly. 

1  I  have  been  often  surprised  at  the  many  and  strange 
sounds  which  may  at  times  be  heard  by  putting  the  ear 
flat  to  the  sod  or  to  the  bark  of  trees.  Even  the  sides  of 
rocks  are  not  dumb,  but  often  resonant  with  noises  —  of 
running  waters,  probably  —  deep  within.  It  would  seem 
that  every  formation  of  matter  had,  in  some  degree,  the 
characteristics  of  a  whispering  gallery,  and  that,  were  our 
ears  only  acute  enough,  we  might  hear  all  sounds  moving 
in  the  world. 


1 62  MAMELOA'S. 

They  wave  us  downward  toward  the  river. 
Call  her  you  love  from  dreamland  and  let 
us  go." 

To  which  the  Trapper,  answering,  signed : 
"  Chief,  old  age  is  on  you,  and  the  memory 
of  old  fights.  'Tis  always  so  with  you  red 
men.1  The  old  fields  stir  you,  and  here  upon 
this  ridge  we  fought  your  fight  of  rescue. 
God !  what  a  rush  we  made !  The  air  was 
full  of  hatchets  as  of  acorns  under  shaken 
oaks  when  I  burst  through.  I  kicked  an  old 
skull  under  moss  as  we  halted  here,  that  she 
might  not  see  it.  It  lies  under  that  yellow 
tuft.  I  have  ears,  and  I  tell  you  nothing 

1  It  is  said  that  Indians  cannot  sleep  upon  a  battle- 
field, however  old,  because  of  superstitious  fear.  They 
admit  themselves  that  it  is  not  well  to  do  it,  and  always, 
under  one  excuse  or  another,  avoid  doing  so. 


MAMELONS.  163 

stirs.  It  is  your  superstition,  chief.  Neither 
living-  nor  dead  have  passed  to-night.  A 
man  without  cross  knows  better.  I  will  wait 
here  till  dawn.  She  said  '  I  would  see  sun- 
rise in  my  face  when  I  start  for  Mamelons,' 
and  she  shall.  I  have  said." 

To  this  the  chief,  after  pause,  signed  back : 
"  I  have  stood  the  test,  and  from  the  burn- 
ing stake  went  beyond  flesh.  I  have  seen 
the  dead,  and  know  them.  I  say  the  dead 
have  passed  to-night.  Even  as  she  danced 
her  happy  dances,  and  you  laughed,  I  saw 
them  crowd  the  ridge  and  come,  filing  down- 
ward. They  fled  with  slanted  spears.  You 
know  the  sign.  It  was  a  warning,  and  for 
us  and  her.  For,  with  the  rest,  heading  the 
line,  there  walked  two  chiefs  whose  bosoms 
bore  the  Tortoise  sign.  I  knew  them.  They 


164  MA  MELONS. 

slanted  spears  at  her,  and  waved  us  down ; 
then  glided  on  at  speed.  And  others  yet  I 
saw,  not  of  my  race  —  a  woman  floating  in 
the  air,  her  mother,  clothed  as  she  shall  be 
to-morrow,  and  with  her  a  long  line  of  faces, 
like  to  hers  asleep,  save  eager  looking,  anx- 
ious ;  and  they,  too,  waved  us  downward  to- 
ward the  river.  This  is  no  riddle,  Trapper. 
It  is  plain.  When  do  the  dead  move  without 
cause  ?  Awake  your  bride  from  dreams  and 
come  down.  Some  fate  is  flying  with  flat 
wings  this  way,  I  know  not  what.  I  only 
know  the  dead  have  waved  me  toward  water, 
and  I  go." 

So  saying,  he  took  the  dark  trail  downward, 
and  in  the  darkness  disappeared. 

"  The  spell  is  on  him,"  muttered  the  Trap- 
per, as  he  sodded  the  brands,  "  and  naught 


MAMELONS.  165 

may  stop  him.  The  old  fool  will  do  some 
stumbling  on  the  trail  before  his  moccasins 
touch  sand."  And  saying  this,  he  gently 
kissed  the  sleeping  girl,  and  taking  her 
small  hand  in  his  strong  palm,  he  fell  asleep  ; 
sleeping  upon  the  crumbling  edge  of  fate 
and  death,  not  knowing.  Had  he  but  known  ! 
Then  might  wedding  bells,  not  wail,  have 
sounded  over  Mamelons. 

"  Awake i  awake!  my  God,  the  fire  is  on 
us,  Atla!"  so  roared  he,  standing  straight. 

Up  sprang  she,  quick  as  a  flash,  and  stood 
in  the  red  light  by  his  side,  cool,  collected, 
while  with  swift,  steady  hands,  she  clothed 
herself  for  flight.  Then  swept  with  haughty 
glance  the  flaming  ridge  and  said  :  "  The 
light  that  lights  my  way  to  Mamelons,  my 


1 66  MAMELONS. 

love,  is  hotter  than  sunrise ;  but  we  may 
head  it."  Then,  with  him,  turned,  and  fled  with 
rapid,  but  sure,  feet  down  the  smoking  trail. 

The  fire  was  that  old  one  which  burnt 
itself  into  the  memories  of  men  so  it  became 
a  birthmark,  and  thus  was  handed  down  to 
generations.1  None  knew  how  kindled.  It 
first  flared  westward  of  the  shallow  lake, 
where  Mistassinni  empties  its  brown  waters 
from  the  north,  and  at  the  first  flash  flamed 
to  the  sky.  It  is  a  mystery  to  this  day,  for 
never  did  fire  kindled  in  woods  or  grass  run 
as  it  ran.  It  raced  a  race  of  death  with 

1  It  has  been  told  me  that  many  children  born 
after  the  terrible  conflagration  that  had  swept  the 
forest  from  west  of  Lake  St.  John  to  Chicoutimi,  and 
which  ran  a  course  of  150  miles  in  less  than  seven 
hours,  were  marked,  at  birth,  as  with  fire. 


MAMELONS.  167 

every  living  thing  ahead  of  it,  and  won  against 
the  swiftest  foot  of  man  or  moose.  The 
v/hirring  partridge,  buzzing  on  for  life,  tum- 
bled, featherless,  a  lump  of  singed,  palpitat- 
ing flesh,  into  the  ashes.  The  eagle,  circling 
a  mile  from  earth,  caught  in  the  rising  vor- 
tex of  hot  air,  shrunk  like  a  feather  touched 
by  heat,  and,  lessening  as  he  dropped, 
reached  earth  a  cinder.  The  living  were 
cremated  as  they  crouched  in  terror  or  fled 
screaming.  The  woods  were  hot  as  hell. 
Trees,  wet  mosses,  sodden  mold,  brooks, 
springs,  and  even  rivers,  disappeared.  Rocks 
cracked  like  can-non  overcharged.  The  face 
of  cliffs  slid  -downward  or  fell  off  with 
crashes  like  split  thunder.  It  was  a  fire  as 
hot,  as  fierce,  as  those  persistent  flames 
which  melt  the  solid  core  of  the  world. 


1 68  MAMELONS. 

Downward  they  raced  in  equal  flight.  Her 
foot  was  as  the  fawn's ;  his  stride  like  that 
of  moose.  She  bounded  on.  He  swept 
along,  o'er  all.  They  spake  no  word  save 
once.  She  slipped.  He  plucked  her  from 
the  ground,  and  said :  "  Brave  one,  we'll  win 
this  race  —  speed  on."  She  flashed  a  bright 
look  back  to  him  and  flew  faster.  Thus,  over 
boulders  and  round  rocks,  they  sprang  and 
ran.  Above,  the  flying  sheets  of  flame ;  be- 
hind, the  red  consuming  line ;  around  them, 
the  horrid  crackling  of  shriveling  leaves ; 
ahead,  the  water,  nigh  to  which  they  were ; 
when,  suddenly,  they  ran  into  blinding  smoke 
and  lost  the  trail,  and,  tearing  onward,  with- 
out sight,  she  fell  and,  striking  a  sharp  rock, 
lay  still,  numbed  to  weakness.  The  Trapper, 
stumbling  after,  fell  prone  beside  her,  but 


Af A  MELONS.  169 

his  strong  frame  stood  the  hard  shock,  and 
staggered  upward.  He  felt  for  her,  and 
found  her  limp.  She  knew  his  touch  and 
murmured  faintly,  with  clear  tones :  "  Dear 
love,  stay  not  for  me :  go  on  and  live.  Atla 
knows  how  to  die." 

He  snatched  her  to  his  breast  and  through 
his  teeth,  "O  God!  have  you  no  mercy?" 
then  plunged  onward,  running  slanting  up- 
ward, for  the  smoke  was  thick  below,  and 

* 

he  knew  the  trees  grew  stunted  on  the  cliffs. 
He  ran  like  madman.  A  saint  running  out 
of  hell  might  not  run  swifter.  He  was  in 
hell,  the  hell  of  fire ;  with  heaven,  the 
heaven  of  cool,  reviving  water,  just  ahead. 
The  strength  of  ten  was  in  him,  and  it  sent 
his  body,  with  her  body  on  his  breast,  onward 
like  a  ball.  His  hair  crimped  to  the  black 


1 70  MAMELONS. 

roots  of  it.  He  felt  it  not.  His  skin  blis- 
tered on  cheek  and  hands.  He  only  strained 
her  closer  to  his  bosom  and  tore  on.  With 
garments  blazing,  he  whirled  onward  up  the 
slope,  streamed  like  a  burning  arrow  along 
the  ridge  which  edges  the  monstrous  rock 
men  call  Cape  Trinity,  slid,  tumbled,  fell, 
down  its  smoking  slope,  until  he  came  to 
where  the  awful  front  drops  sheer ;  then, 
heaving  up  his  huge  frame,  still  clasping 
her  sweet  weight  within  strong  arms,  plunged, 
like  a  burnt  log  rolling  out  of  fire,  into  the 
dark,  deep,  blessed  tide. 

•  •••••• 

Morn  came,  but  brought  no  sunrise. 
Smoke,  black  and  dense,  filled  the  great 
gorge,  and  hung  pulseless  over  the  charred 
mountains.  Soot  scummed  the  water  levels, 


MA  MELONS.  i;i 

and  new  brooks,  flowing  in  new  channels, 
tasted  like  lye.  Smells  of  a  burnt  world 
filled  the  air.  The  nose  shrank  from  breath, 
and  breathed  expectant  of  offence.  The  fire 
brought  death  to  ten  thousand  living  things, 
and  filled  all  the  waste  with  stench  of  shal- 
low graves,  burnt  skins,  and  smoldering  bones. 
The  dead  had  saved  the  living,  for  the  old 
chief  lived.  From  the  red  beach  he  saw  the 
Trapper's  race  for  life  along  the  smoking 
ridge,  and  paddled  quick  to  where  he  made 
his  awful,  headlong  plunge  into  Eternity.1 
From  the  deep  depths  he  rose,  like  a  dead 
fish  to  surface,  his  breath  beaten  out  of  him, 
but  clasping  still  in  tight  arms  the  muffled 

1  The  recess  of  water  curving  inward  toward  the 
mountains  between  Cape  Trinity  and  Eternity  is  called 
Eternity  Bay. 


172  MAMELONS. 

form.  His  tongueless  savior  —  so  paying  life 
with  life,  the  old  debt  wiped  out  at  last  — 
towed  him  to  shore  and  on  the  beach  revived 
him  with  rude  skill  persistent.  He  came  to 
sense  with  violence,  torn  convulsively.  His 
soul  woke  facing  backward,  living  past  life 
again.  To  feet  he  sprang  at  his  first  breath, 
and  cried:  "Awake!  aivake!  my  God,  the 
fire  is  on  us,  Atla!"  then  plucked  her  from 
the  sand  where  she  lay,  weak,  as  a  wilted 
flower,  and  started  with  a  bound  to  fly.  The 
touch  of  her  bent  form,  drooping  in  his  arms, 
recalled  his  soul  to  sense,  and  he  knew  all, 
and  reeled  with  the  woe  of  it.  Down  at  the 
water's  edge  he  sank,  cast  covering  cloth  from 
head  and  hands,  bathed  her  dark  face,  and 
murmured  loving  words  to  her  still  soul. 
Through  realms  and  spaces  of  deep  trance 


MAMELONS.  173 

her  spirit,  lingering  in  dim  void  'twixt  life 
and  death,  heard  love's  call,  and  struggled 
back  toward  the  shore  of  life  and  sense. 
From  pulseless  breast  her  soul  clomb  up, 
pushed  the  fringed  lids  apart,  and  gazed, 
through  wide  eyes  of  sweet  surprise,  upon 
his  worshiped  face  :  then  sank,  leaving  a 
smile  upon  her  lips,  within  the  safe  inclosure 
of  deep  sleep.  All  day  she  slept  within  his 
arms.  All  night  she  slumbered  on.  Wisely 
he  waited,  saying:  "Sleep  to  the  overtaxed 
means  life.  It  is  the  only  medicine,  and  sure. 
In  sleep  the  wearied  find  new  selves." 

But  when  the  second  morning  after  starless 
night  came  to  the  world,  she  felt  the  waking 
gray  of  it  upon  her  lids,  and,  stirring  in  his 
arms,  like  wounded  bird  in  nest,  moved  mouth 
and  opened  eyes,  and  gazed  slowly  round,  as 


1 74  MAMELONS. 

seeking-  knowledge  of  place  and  time  and  cir* 
cumstance.  Then  memory  came,  and  she  re- 
membered all,  and  softly  said,  "  Art  thou 
alive,  dear  love  ?  I  have  been  with  the  dead. 
The  dead  were  very  kind,  but  oh,  I  missed 
you  so,"  and  with  soft  hand  she  stroked  his 
face  caressingly.  The  old  chief  mutely  stood, 
watching,  with  gloomy  eyes,  the  sad  sight. 
He  read  the  motion  of  her  lips,  and  in  his 
tongueless  throat  there  grew  a  moan,  and 
his  dry  lids  wet  themselves  with  tears.  She 
noticed  him  and  said  :  "  You,  too,  alive,  old 
servitor !  The  gods  are  strict,  but  merciful. 
Two  of  the  three  remain.  The  one  alone 
must  go.  So  is  it  well."  Then  to  her  wor- 
shiped one :  "  Dear  love,  this  is  a  gloomy 
place.  Let  us  go  on.  The  smoke  hides  the 
bright  world.  I  long  for  light.  The  fate  is 


MAMELONS.  175 

not  yet  sure.  The  blood  of  our  old  race 
holds  tightly  to  last  chance.  We  face  it  out 
with  death  to  the  last  throb.  Then  yield,  not 
sooner.  Who  knows  ?  I  may  find  sunrise 
yet  at  Mamelons." 

So  was  it  done. 

They  placed  her  on  soft  skins  within  the 
boat  facing  him  who  steered,  for  she  said : 
"  Dear  love,  the  dead  see  not  the  living.  If 
I  go  I  may  not  see  you  evermore.  So  let 
me  look  on  your  dear  face  while  yet  I  may. 
To-day  is  mine.  To-morrow — I  know  not 
who  may  own  to-morrow." 

Thus,  he  at  stern  and  she  at  stem,  softly 
placed  on  the  piled  skins,  her  dark  eyes  on 
his  face,  they  glided  out  of  the  deep  bay, 
round  the  gray  base  of  the  dread  cape  that 
stands  eternal,  and  floated  downward  with  the 


1 76  MAMELONS. 

black  ebb  toward  the  sea.  Past  islands  and 
through  channels  intricate,  they  went  in  si- 
lence, until  they  came  to  where  the  Margue- 
rite, with  tuneful  mouth,  runs  singing  over 
shining  sands,  pouring  out  into  dark  Sague- 
nay,  as- life  pours  into  death;  then  breathed 
they  freer  airs,  and  the  freshness  of  untainted 
winds  fell  sweetly  down  upon  them  from  over- 
hanging hills,  and  thus  she  spake : 

"Dear  love,  I  know  not  what  may  be.  We 
mortals  are  not  sure  of  anything.  The  end 
of  sense  is  tha't  of  knowledge.  We  know  we 
live  forever.  For  so  our  pride  compels,  and 
some  have  seen  the  dead  moving.  But  under 
what  conditions  we  do  live  beyond,  we  know 
not.  Hence  hate  I  death.  It  is  an  interrup- 
tion and  a  stoppage  of  plans  and  joys  which 
work  and  flow  in  sequence ;  severs  us  from 


MAMELOA'S.  I'JJ 

loved  connections  ;  for  the  certain  gives  us 
the  uncertain,  and  in  place  of  solid  substantial 
facts  forces  us  to  build  our  future  lives  on.  the 
unfixed  and  changeful  foundations  of  hopes 
and  dreams.  It  is  not  moral  state  that  puz- 
zles. We  of  the  old  race  never  worried  over 
that.  For  we  knew  if  we  were  good  enough 
to  live  here,  and  once,  then  we  were  good 
enough  to  live  elsewhere  and  forever ;  but  it 
\vas  the  nature  of  existence,  its  environment, 
and  the  connections  growing  out  of  these  that 
filled  the  race  whose  child  I  am  with  dread 
and  dole.  For  all  the  women  of  my  race 
loved  with  great  loves  —  the  loves  of  lovers 
who  sublimated  life  in  loving,  and  knew  no 
higher  and  no  holier,  nor  cared  to  know.  We 
cast  all  on  that  one  chance  ;  winning  all  in 
winning,  and  losing  all  if  we  lost.  With  me 


178  MAMELONS. 

it  is  the  same.  I  love  you  with  a  love  that 
maketh  life.  I  am  a  slave  to  it.  It  is  my 
strength  or  weakness,  as  has  been  with  the 
women  of  my  blood  from  the  beginning-.  I 
have  no  other  creed,  nor  faith  nor  hope.  To- 
day I  see  thee,  and  I  have.  To-morrow  whom 
shall  I  see  ?  The  dead  ?  I  care  not  for  the 
dead.  There  is  not  one  among  them  I  may 
love,  for  loving  thee  has  cut  me  off  from 
loving  other  one  forever ;  unless  the  alchemy 
of  death  works  back  the  creative  process,  un- 
doing all  of  blood  and  nature,  and  sends  us 
into  nothingness,  then  brings  us  forth  by  new 
processes  foreign  to  what  we  were,  and  wholly 
different  from  our  old  selves,  which  is  a  con- 
summation horrible  to  think  of." 

"  Nay,  nay,"  exclaimed  the  Trappen     "  Such 
cannot   be.     Our  loves,  if   they  be    large  and 


MAMELONS.  1 79 

whole,  grow  with  us,  and  with  our   lives   live 
on  forever." 

"  It  may  be  so,  dear  love,"  replied  the  girl. 
"  Love's  prophecy  should  be  true  as  sweet,  or 
else  your  sacred  books  are  vain.  For  in  them 
it  is  written,  '  Love  is  of  God.'  But  oh,  how 
shall  I  find  thee  in  that  other  world  ?  For 
wide  and  dim  must  stretch  its  spaces,  and 
vast  must  be  its  intervals.  This  earth  is 
small.  We  who  live  on  it,  few.  Within  the 
circle  of  three  generations  all  living  stand. 
But  the  dead  are  many.  The  sands  of  Mam- 
elons  are  not  so  numberless.  They  totalize 
the  ages ;  the  land  they  dwell  in  beyond  mor- 
tal compass.  Who  may  be  sure  of  meeting 
any  one  in  such  a  realm  ?  At  what  point 
on  its  boundaries  shall  I  wait  and  watch  ? 
How  signal  thee,  by  hand  or  voice,  when  out 


l8o  MA  MELONS. 

of  earth,  like  feather,  blown,  by  that  strange 
movement  men  call  death,  into  the  endless 
distances,  thou  comest  suddenly.  Alas !  alas ! 
I  know  not  if  beyond  this  day,  I,  going  out 
of  this  dear  sunlight,  may  ever  and  forever 
look  upon  thy  face  again ! " 

"  Atla,"  returned  the  Trapper,  "I  know  not 
what  may  be.  But  this  I  know  and  swear, 
that  if  a  trail  pushed,  seeking,  through  a 
thousand  or  ten  thousand  years,  may  bring 
me  to  thy  side,  we  two  shall  meet  in  heaven." 

"  Oh,  love,  say  those  sweet  words  again," 
she  cried.  "  Say  more  than  them.  Crowd 
into  this  one  day,  that  I  am  sure  of,  the  vows 
and  loves  of  half  a  life,  that  I  may  go,  if  go 
I  must,  out  of  thy  sight  from  Mamelons, 
heartful,  upheld  by  an  immortal  hope.  And 
here  I  pledge  thee,  by  the  Sacred  Fire  that 


MAMELONS.  igl 

burns  forever,  that  if  power  bestowed  by  na- 
ture, or  artfully  acquired  by  patience  working 
through  ten  thousand  years,  may  find  thee 
after  death,  then  some  time  will  I  find  my 
heaven  in  thy  arms,  not  found  till  then.  So, 
now,  in  holy  covenant  we  will  rest  until  we 
come  to  Mamelons,  and  ever  after.  I  feel 
the  breeze  of  wider  water  on  my  cheek,  and 
breathe  the  salted  air.  I  shall  know  soon  if 
ever  sunrise  shine  for  me  at  Mamelons." 

So  went  they  down  in  silence  with  the  tide 
that  whirled  itself  in  eddies  toward  the  sea ; 
past  L'Anse  a  1'Eau,  where  now  the  salmon 
swim  and  spawn  against  their  will,1  past  the 

1  At  L'Anse  a  1'Eau,  where  the  Saguenay  steamers 
land  passengers  for  Tadousac,  the  tourist  will  find  a  fine 
collection  of  large  salmon  at  the  upper  end  of  the  little 
bay  or  recess,  for  here  is  one  of  the  salmon-hatching 
stations  under  government  patronage. 


1 82  MA  MELONS. 

sharp  point  of  rounded  rocks,  where  spor- 
tively the  white  whales '  roll,  and,  steering 
straight  across  the  harbor's  mouth,  where  her 
Basque  fathers  anchored  ships  before  the 
years  of  men,2  ran  boat  ashore  where  the 
great  ledge  runs,  sloping  clown  from  upper 
sand  to  water,  and  shining  beach  and  gray 
rock  meet. 

But    as   they   crossed    the    harbor's    mouth, 

1  The  white  whales,  commonly  called    porpoises,  are 
very  plentiful  at   the  mouth  of   the  Saguenay,  and  to  a 
stranger  present  a  very  novel  and  entertaining  spectacle 
tumbling  in  the  black  water.     They  are    hunted   by  the 
natives  for  both  their  skins  and  oil. 

2  Personally,  I   hold  to  the  opinion  that  the  eastern 
hemisphere  never  lost  its  knowledge  of  the  western,  but 
that  from  immemorial  times,  the  Basques  and  their  Iberian 
ancestors  visited   at  regular  intervals  the  St.  Lawrence, 
both  gulf  and  river.     Of  course,  the  grounds  on  which 
I  base  such  an  opinion  cannot  be  presented  in  this  note. 


MAMELONS.  1 83 

sailing  straight  on  abreast  of  Mamelons,  its 
bright  sands  blackened  and  a  shadow  dark- 
ened on  its  front,  and,  as  they  bore  her  ten- 
derly to  the  terrace,  where  stood  tent  and 
priest,  a  tremor  shook  the  quivering  earth, 
and  through  the  darkening  air  a  wave  of 
thunder  rolled. 

"  Dear  love,"  she  said,  "  it  may  not  be. 
The  fate  still  holds.  The  doom  works  out 
its  dole.  I  may  not  be  thy  wife  this  side 
grave.  What  rights  I  have  beyond  I  shall 
know  soon.  For  soon  the  sight '  will  come 

1  It  is  held  by  some  that  certain  families  have  the 
power  of  "  second  sight,"  or  to  look  into  the  future, 
come  to  them  just  before  death.  I  have  known  cases 
where  such  power,  apparently,  did  come  to  the  dying. 
The  Basque  people  held  strongly  to  the  belief  that  all  of 
their  kingly  line  were  seers  or  prophets,  and  that,  especially 
before  dying,  each  had  a  full,  clear  view  of  the  future. 


184  MA  MELONS. 

to  me,  and  what  is  hidden  now  will  stand  out 
plain."  Then,  lying  on  the  skins,  she  gazed  at 
Mamelons,  looming  vast  and  black  in  shadow, 
and,  closing  eyes,  she  prayed  unto  the  gods, 
the  earthborn,  old-time  fathers  of  her  race. 

But  he  could  not  have  it  so,  and  when 
prayer  was  ended  said  :  "  Atla,  we  have  come 
far  for  marriage  rite,  and  married  we  will  be. 
Thou  art  mistaken.  I  have  seen  shadow 
settle  and  heard  thunder  roll  before.  In  eye 
nor  cheek  are  death's  pale  signals  set.  The 
holy  man  Is  here.  Here  ring  and  seal.  For- 
get the  doom,  and  let  the  words  be  read  that 
bindeth  to  the  grave." 

To  this  she  answering  said:  "Dear  love, 
thou  art  in  error,  but  thy  word  is  law.  My 
s^ay  is  brief.  When  yonder  shadow  passes  I 
shall  pass.  There  sleeps  my  father,  and  with 


MAMELONS.  185 

him  I  must  sleep.  The  earth  is  conscious. 
I  am  of  those  who  were,  earthborn,  and  so 
she  feels  our  coming1  and  our  going  as  mother 
feels  life  and  death  of  child.  The  sun  is  on 
the  western  hills.  At  sunset  !  shall  die.  But 
if  it  may  stay  up  thy  soul  through  the  sad 
years,  bid  the  good  man  go  on." 

Then  took  the  priest  his  book,  and,  in  the 
language  of  the  Latins,  so  old  to  us,  so  new 
beside  her  tongue,  whose  literature  was  dead 
a  thousand  years  before  Rome  was,  began  to 
bind,  by  the  manufactured  custom  of  modern 
men,  whose  binding  is  of  law  and  not  of  love, 
and  hence  a  mockery.  But  ere  he  came  to 
that  sweet  fragment  of  love's  law  and  faith, 
stolen  from  the  past,  the  giving  and  receiving 
of  a  ring,  symbol  of  eternity,  she  suddenly 
lifted  hand  and  said : 


1 86  MAMELONS. 

"  Have  done  !  Have  done !  No  need  of 
marriage  now.  No  need  of  rite,  nor  prayer, 
nor  endless  ring,  nor  seal  of  sacred  sign.  I 
see  what  is  to  be.  The  veil  is  lifted  and  I 
see  beyond.  I  see  the  millions  of  my  race 
lift  over  Mamelons.  They  come  as  come  the 
seas  toward  shore,  rolling  in  countless  billows 
from  central  ocean.  The  old  Iberian  race, 
millions  on  millions,  landscapes  of  moving 
forms,  aligned  with  the  horizon,  come,  march- 
ing on.  Among  them,  lifted  high,  the  gods. 
On  thrones  a  thousand  queens  sit  regnant, 
raimented  like  me.  Their  voice  is  as  the 
sound  of  many  waters  :  — 

" '  Last,  best,  and  highest  over  all,  we  place 
thee.' 

"The  gods  say  so?  So  be  it,  then.  Mother, 
I  have  kept  charge.  My  love  has  won  him. 


MA  MELONS.  187 

The  old  race  stops,  but  by  no  fault  of  mine. 
My  people,  this  man  is  lord  and  king  to  me. 
See  that  ye  bring  him  to  my  throne  when  he 
comes  seeking  to  the  West.  Dear  love,  you 
will  excuse  me  now.  I  must  pass  on ;  but 
passing  on  I  leave  my  soul  with  thee.  Make 
grave  for  me  on  Mamelons.  Put  lily  at  my 
throat,  green  boughs  on  breast,  bright  sand 
on  boughs.  Watch  with  me  there  one  night. 
I  will  be  there  with  thee.  So  keep  with  Atla 
holy  tryst  one  night  and  only  one  —  then  go 
thy  way.  We  two  will  have  sweet  meeting 
after  many  days."  And  saying  this  she  put 
soft  hand  in  his  and  died. 

Her  lover,  kneeling  by  her  couch,  put  face 
to  her  cold  cheek,  nor  stirred.  The  holy  man 
said  softly  holy  prayer ;  while  the  old  tongue- 
less  chief  of  Mistassinni  wrapped  head  in 


I  88  MA  MELONS. 

blanket,  and  through  the  long  night  sat  as 
one  dead 

Next  day  the  silent  man  made  silent  grave 
on  Mamelons.  At  sunset  they  brought  her 
to  it,  raimented  like  a  queen,  and  laid  her 
body  in  bright  sand ;  put  lily  at  her  throat, 
green  boughs  on  peaceful  breast,  and  slowly 
sifted  clean  sand  over  all. 

That  night  a  lonely  man  sat  by  a  lonely 
grave,  through  the  long  watches  keeping  holy 
tryst.  But  when  the  sun  came  up,  rising  out 
of  mists  which  whitened  over  Anticosti,  he 
rose,  and,  standing  with  bared  head,  he 
said  : 

"  Atla,1    we     two    will     have     sweet    meet- 

1  I  named  my  heroine  Atla,  because  I  hold  that  the 
Basques  not  only  are  descendants  of  the  old  Iberians, 
but  that  the  Iberians  were  a  colony  from  Atlantis.  I 


MA  MELONS.  189 

ing  after  many  days."  Then  went  his 
way. 

And  there,  on  that  high  crest,  whose  sands 

accept  fully  Ignatius  Donelly's  conclusions  as  to  the 
actual  old-time  existence  of  a  great  island  continent 
in  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  and  believe  that  in  it  the  human 
race  began  and  developed  a  civilization  inconceivably 
perfect  and  splendid,  of  which  the  Egyptian,  Peruvian, 
Iberian,  and  Mexican  were  only  colonial  repetitions. 
Atla  is,  therefore,  the  proper  name  for  the  last  of  the 
old  Basque-Iberian  blood  to  have,  as  it  is  the  root  of 
Atlantis  (Atla-ntis),  the  original  motherland  of  all.  I 
have  never  met  Mr.  Donelly,  and  may  never  meet  him, 
and  hence  I  make  this  opportunity  to  express  the  obli- 
gation I  am  under  to  him  for  entertainment  and  profit. 
The  patience  of  the  scholarship  that  could  accumulate 
the  material  for  a  book  like  his  "  Atlantis "  is  worthy 
of  a  wider  and  more  grateful  acknowledgment  than 
this  superficial  age  of  ours  is  able  to  give,  for  it  cannot 
appreciate  it.  No  man  with  any  pretensions  of  schol- 
arly attainments  can  afford  to  let  "  Atlajitis  "  go  unread. 


1 90  MAMELONS. 

first  saw  the  sunrise  of  the  world,  when  sang 
the  stars  of  morning,  beyond  doom  and  fate, 
at  last,  the  child  of  the  old  race,  which 
lived  in  the  beginning,  sweetly  sleeps  at 
Mamelons. 


UNGAVA 

A  COMPANION  IDYL  OF  MAMELONS 


To  HER  who  has  learned  with  me  and  from  me  the  lore  of 
woods  and  waters,  the  myths  of  ancient  folk  and  the  tra- 
ditions of  races  now  no  more ;  who  wrote  the  words  here 
printed  as  my  thought  formed  them  and  whose  pleasure 
in  the  growing  sentences  made  my  pleasure  in  composing 
them  ;  to  whose  faith  and  help  I  owe  so  much  and  of 
them  may  tell  so  little ;  to  my  adopted  daughter, 

Jf*  JUarguertta  jfturrag, 

as  a  tribute  and  testimony  I  inscribe  UNGAVA. 

THE  AUTHOR. 
BURLINGTON,  VT.,  1890. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGB 

I.  —  AFTER  MAMELONS       7 

II.  —  THE  COMING  OF  UNGAVA 33 

III.  —  UNGAVA'S  LOVE 48 

IV.  —  THE  WIZARD  OF  THE  NORTH 73 

V.  —  THE  CONJURER'S  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  GENE- 
SIS OF  THE  WORLD 91 

VI.  —  THE  WHITE  GOD  OF  MISTASSINNI    .     .     .  116 

VII.  —  THE  COUNCIL  OF  THE  CHIEFS       ....  137 

VIII.  —  DUEL  OF  THE  OLD  DUMB  CHIEFS     .     .     .  156 

IX.  —  THE  FAIRIES'  FAREWELL  TO  UNGAVA   .  181 


UNGAVA. 

A  COMPANION   IDYL   OF  MAMELONS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

AFTER    MAMELONS.1 

r  I  ^HUS  did  the  Doom  of  Mamelons  work 
out  its  dole.  And  leaving  in  her  grave 
the  joy  of  all  his  life,  the  fairest,  sweetest 
woman  of  her  race,  —  whose  women  were  the 
glory  of  the  world, — down  from  the  Mound 
of  Fate  the  Trapper  came  with  heavy  step  and 

1  Ungava  is  not  in  the  true  sense  a  sequel  of  "  The 
Doom  of  Mamelons,"  for  that  tale  stands  complete  in 
itself.  Nevertheless,  the  two  are  closely  connected,  and 
structurally  united  in  a  close  companionship,  as  two 
of  the  principal  characters  in  Mamelons  —  the  trapper 


8  UNGA  VA. 

slow,  as  one  who  bears  a  burden  greater  than 
his  strength,  to  where  the  tongueless  Chief 
of  Mistassinni  stood  beside  his  bark,  his 
silent  paddle  in  his  hand,  and  to  him  slowly 
said : 

"  Old  friend,  in  yonder'  sand  my  love  lies 
dead.  You  helped  me  lay  her  lovely  body 
down,  where  it  must  lie  beyond  the  reach  of 
loving  hands  forever.  There,  as  she  bade, 
I  have  kept  holy  tryst  one  night.  She  met 
me  there.  To  that  high  crest  where  first  the 
world  was  born,  from  silence  and  from  star- 
light she  came  down  and  stood  beside  me. 
I  saw  her  clothed  in  raiment  like  a  queen, 

and  the  old  chief  of  Mistassinni  —  are  leading  ones 
in  this  story,  and  in  it  are  necessarily  many  allusions 
which  are  more  plain  and  enjoyable  to  the  reader  if  he 
has  previously  read  Mamelons. 


UNGA  VA.  9 

and  all  her  beauty  riper  grown  stood  stately 
in  her  form,  and  shone  resplendent  out  of  face 
and  eye.  She  told  me  things  to  be.  And, 
as  she  talked,  I  heard  the  stir  of  thousands 
round  her,  and  through  the  starlit  air  above 
the  sands  approving  murmurs  run ;  but  long 
and  lonely  stretch  the  years  'twixt  this  and 
hour  of  meeting.  Empty  are  my  arms  of 
that  warm  life  that  should  be  nestling  in 
them,  and  empty  all  the  world.  With  eyes 
uplifted  unto  mine,  upon  my  breast  her 
mother  died.  The  chief  I  loved  is  dead. 
And  now  she,  too,  is  gone,  and  with  her  took 
in  going  all  the  sunshine  of  the  world.  You, 
now,  and  I  are  left  alone.  Two  silent 
ones,  for  you  are  tongueless,  and  I  with 
grief  am  dumb.  We  two  are  joined  in 
brotherhood  of  woe.  So  in  this  bark  of 


10  UNGAVA. 

thine  will  you  and  I  take  seat,  and  you  with 
silent  blade  shall  steer  it  upward  on  the 
flooding  tide  of  death-dark  water/  colored 
like  our  grief,  between  the  awful  cliffs, 
which,  leafless  as  our  lives  will  be,  have 
stood  in  dead,  gray  barrenness  from  the 
foundation  of  the  world.  So,  now,  old  friend, 
from  this  dread  shore  of  Fate  push  off,  and 
we  will  go,  I  know  not  whither  and  I  care 
not  where.  We  two  alone  are  left,  and  till 
death  parts  us  will  we  bide  together." 

So  was    it   done.     Slowly,  without  word  or 

1  The  waters  of  the  Saguenay  are  dark  and  gloomy 
to  a  degree  unknown  in  any  other  river  or  body  of 
water  I  have  ever  seen,  and  are  noted,  the  world  over, 
because  of  their  peculiar  sombre  and  sinister  appearance. 
Looked  at  from  above,  they  often  seem  to  be  as  black  as 
ink. 


UNO  A  VA.  ii 

sign,  the  old  chief  lifted  paddle  and  silently 
the  light  boat  moved  from  that  dread  shore 
which  for  a  thousand  years  had  been  the 
shore  of  fate,  and  through  the  whirling  eddies, 
whirling  strongly  up  and  on  the  flooding 
waters  black  as  their  grief  between  the 
monstrous  walls  of  rock  the  silent  two  went 
floating  up  into  the  silence  of  unknown  hap 
and  hazard. 

All  day  they  drifted  on  in  silence,  until 
they  came  to  where  the  Marguerite  flows 
crystal  over  shining  sands.  Then  the  dumb 
helmsman  steered  his  light  bark  inward 
through  the  current,  flowing  swift  and  clear. 
With  skilful  stroke  he  pushed  it  upward 
through  the  eddying  tide  until  he  reached  that 
lovely  bend  where  silver  birches  grow,  and 


1 2  UNGA  VA. 

where  a  spring  pours  down  its  wimpling  line 
of  liquid  music,  singing  through  the  grasses, 
until  it,  laughing,  runs  into  the  smiling  river. 
Then,  standing  on  the  strand,  he  to  his  stricken 
comrade  said : ' 

1  The  reader  must  bear  in  mind  that  the  language  of 
pantomime,  or  sign  language,  has  been  brought  to  a 
wonderful  perfection  as  a  means  of  communicating 
thought  among  the  Indians  of  this  continent.  The 
ancient  Greeks,  as  is  known  to  all  scholars,  found  it 
adequate  for  the  purpose  of  full  dramatic  expression, 
whether  of  comedy  or  tragedy.  They  did  not  originate 
it,  but  borrowed  it  from  older  races  and  ages.  The  read- 
ing of  the  motion  of  the  lips  is  also  an  ancient  accom- 
plishment, if  such  a  word  is  allowable  in  connection 
with  such  an  art  or  practice.  Nor  is  it  nearly  as  difficult 
as  one  might  imagine  to  follow  the  pantomimist,  and 
catch  the  sense  of  even  subtle  shades  of  expression. 
Some  have  thought  that  it  is  the  earliest,  as  it  certainly 
is  the  most  vivid  and  picturesque,  method  of  imparting 
human  thought. 


UNGAVA.  13 

"  Listen,  Trapper,  to  wisdom  born  of  losses 
many  and  of  many  years.  At  Mamelons  your 
love  lies  dead.  Your  thoughts  are  heavy  and 
your  heart  is  sore.  The  wounds  of  death  are 
deep.  Time  is  the  only  balm  that  heals  its 
hurts,  and  change.  These  two  salve  all  arid 
heal  at  last,  if  ever.  The  island  is  no  place 
for  you  or  me.  There  sleeps  her  mother  and 
there  sleeps  the  chief.  The  house  is  empty  as 
a  nest  when  birds  have  flown  and  under  snow 
the  bough  droops  down.  There  will  thy  grief 
keep  fresh  and  sore.  Its  ache  will  grow  as 
grows  thy  sense  of  loss.  Here  will  we  camp 
to-night,  and  on  the  morrow  northward  will 
we  go  to  far  Ungava.1  Upon  its  sands  and 

1  Ungava  is  the  name  of  a  large  bay  which  runs 
deeply  into  the  body  of  the  continent  near  the  north- 
east corner  of  the  Labrador  peninsula.  It  is  remarkable 


14  UNGA  VA. 

ice,  in  distant  years,  I  fought  and  hunted. 
There,  perchance,  I  may  find  some,  who, 
scarred  in  those  old  fights  and  gray,  remember 
me.  If  not,  it  is  the  same.  Among  the 
Nasquapees  is  one  who  knoweth  all.  He  can 
call  up  the  dead.1  His  eyes  see  backward 
and  before.  There  is  but  one  thing  I  would 
know.  It  may  be  he  can  tell  it  me.  Here 
will  we  sleep  to-night.  Perchance  in  sleep 

because  of  its  extraordinary  tides,  which  rise  to  the 
height  of  sixty  feet  and  more.  Around  it,  formerly,  the 
famous  tribe  of  Nasquapee  Indians  —  if  they  be  Indians 
—  had  their  home.  Of  these  remarkable  people  I  have 
spoken  in  my  note  concerning  them  in  Mamelons. 

1  This  is  an  allusion  to  a  famous  prophet  or  high 
priest  of  the  tribe,  who,  apparently,  was  the  last  of  a 
long  line  of  prophets,  who  claimed  to  have  powers  such 
as  the  Witch  of  Endor  possessed  and  exercised,  when,  if 
our  Old  Scriptures  are  to  be  credited,  she  called  up  the 
spirit  of  Samuel  from  the  dead. 


UNGA  VA.  1 5 

some  dream '  may  come.  If  not  forbid,  to- 
morrow northward  we  will  go." 

To  which  the  Trapper : 

"  Old  Chief,  your  years  are  many  and  your 
words  are  wise.  The  wounds  of  death  are 
deep,  and  time  and  change  and  God's  sure 
help  can  only  heal.  The  island  is  an  empty 
nest.  The  fairest  and  the  sweetest  bird  these 
northern  woods  may  ever  know,  has  flown. 
She  has  found  summer  land.  She  will  come 
back  no  more.  The  island  is  the  home  of 
graves.  Some  things  are  there  for  me  to  do. 
But  they  can  wait.  His  kinsmen  watch  the 

1  As  is  well  known,  the  Indian  is  a  firm  believer  in 
dreams  as  a  method  of  mystic  and  valuable  communica- 
tion. From  this  old-time  superstition  no  reasoning  can 
turn  him.  He  sincerely  believes  that  the  Great  Spirit 
speaks  directly  to  him  in  his  sleep  by  their  agency. 


1 6  UNGAVA. 

house,  and  they  are  true.  When  out  of  years 
I  have,  by  many  sights  and  deeds  and  varying 
haps,  carved  calmness,  and  been  strengthened, 
I  will  go  back.  I  will  not  go  till  then.  I,  too, 
have  seen  Ungava,  and  have  fought  upon  its 
sands,  and  stumbled  on  its  blocks  of  ice,  blood- 
wet.  I  will  go  north  with  thee,  and  hear  again 
the  roaring  of  its  tides,  and  hunt  the  seals  be- 
neath the  fires  that  burn  the  end  of  the  world.1 
It  may  be  that  in  action  swift  my  soul  will  find 
its  rest,  and  out  of  changeful  chance  forgetful- 
ness  will  come,  and  scab  the  gash  of  grief  now 
bleeding  red,  and  scar  it  to  dull  pain.  We 

1  The  northern  Indians  will  gravely  inform  you  that 
what  we  call  the  Aurora  Borealis,  or  Northern  Lights, 
are  the  reflection  of  flames  which  ever  and  anon  rush 
out  from  the  end  of  the  world,  which  they  hold  to  be 
forever  in  a  state  of  combustion. 


UNGA  VA.  17 

will  go    north,  and  bide  together  till  we  die." 
So  was  it  done. 

So  went  they  northward,  and  for  half  a  year 
did  widely  roam.  Strange  fortunes  fell  to 
them.  They  passed  the  sources  of  the  streams 
that  flow  toward  the  south.  They  saw  the 
forests  dwindle  down  until  the  mighty  pine  was 
but  a  shrub.  They  visited  old  fields,  where, 
in  forgotten  years  old  fights  had  been,  whose 
only  record  was  scattered  and  white  bones. 
They  made  them  bags  of  eider,1  and  housed 
themselves  in  snow.  They  trapped  them  furs 
which  gave  them  garments  such  as  princes 
wear.  They  fed  on  meat  of  fish  and  fowl  and 
animal,  juicy  and  fat,  cooked  with  a  hunter's 
art.  For  bread  they  digged  them  roots,  which, 

1  The    Nasquapee    Indians   sleep   in  bags  lined  with 

• 

eider-down. 


1 8  UNGAVA. 

deftly  parched  and  pounded,  yielded  substance 
sweeter  than  the  wheaten  loaf.  So  roamed 
they  through  the  north,  through  those  wild 
wastes  where  trails  are  scarce  as  honor  among 
men.  One,  seeking  day  and  chance,  if 
they  still  waited;  the  other,  balm  for  wounds 
within,  and  that  forgetfulness  which  dulls  the 
edge  of  pain  and  makes  it  easier  to  be  borne. 
So  leisurely  they  drew  their  trail  into  the 
north  as  men  who  seek  at  random,  or  seek 
forgetfulness  of  selves  :  —  that  sweet  oblivion 
or  dim  memory  of  woes. 

So  roamed  they  on.  One  night  they  camped 
beneath  a  hill,  one  of  a  range  that  stretched 
a  hundred  miles  from  east  to  west :  a  ridge 
of  mighty  bowlders,  meteoric  stones  and  rocks 
volcanic,  treeless,  soilless,  a  monstrous  jumble 
of  chaotic  debris  that  might  be  monument 


UNGAVA.  19 

above  a  ruined  world.1  There  in  wild  laby- 
rinth of  desolation  they  made  their  bivouac. 
Before  they  slept,  the  old  chief,  standing  in 
the  camp-light,  signed: 

"Trapper,  some  evil  fate  is  coming  swift 
as  death.  Twice  on  the  trail  to-day  I  felt 
the  ledges  shake.2  I  hear  the  sound  of  run- 
ning noises  under  ground.  The  fire  to-night 

1  Nothing  can  be  imagined  more  desolate  and  dismal 
than  this  section  of  the  Labrador  peninsula.  If  Ignatius 
Donnelly's  theory  is  correct,  that  a  comet  once  struck 
the  earth  near  what  is  now  the  northern  extremity  of 
the  globe,  one  might  easily  imagine  that,  west  and  north 
of  Ungava,  he  was  standing  amid  the  ruins  caused  by 
the  awful  catastrophe. 

*  Earthquake  shocks  are  not  infrequent  throughout 
this  section.  Some  years  the  seismic  disturbances  are 
felt  for  months  together,  and  scarcely  a  year  passes  that 
one  or  more  shocks  are  not  experienced. 


2O  UNGAVA. 

burned  blue,  and  talked.  I  smell  a  storm.1 
This  is  a  wilderness  of  rocks.  There  is  no 
trail.  If  sun  should  fail  what  eye  might 
thread  a  passage  through  ?  I  fear  some  fate 
is  coming.  What  counsel  do  you  give?" 
To  which  the  Trapper  made  reply : 
"  Chief,  lie  down  and  sleep.  The  stars  are 
bright.  The  sky  is  blue.  No  storm  is  com- 
ing. If  it  comes,  we  will  bide  in  our  bags. 
Two  days  at  most  will  blow  it  out.  Our  food 
will  last  till  sun  comes  forth.  The  rocks  are 

1  Even  many  white  hunters  I  have  met  in  my  wander- 
ings have  boldly  claimed  that  the  coming  of  great 
atmospheric  disturbances  was  plainly  interpreted  by 
the  nose.  May  it  not  be  possible  that  the  organs  of 
smell,  like  those  of  sight,  are  much  more  acute  in  those 
who  are  "  lone  hermits  of  untainted  woods "  than  in 
us  who  live  from  day  of  birth  in  smoky  and  foul 
atmospheres  ? 


UNGAVA.  21 

jumbled,  and  all  look  alike.  Who  cares?  We 
are  not  boys.  Can  you  and  I  lose  trail  ? 
That  were  a  joke.  Your  nose  is  not  a 
hound's.  No  storm  is  coming.  Lie  down 
and  sleep.  Let  ledges  shake.  Unless  they 
shake  me  out  of  bag,  I  will  sleep  on."  So 
spake  he  lightly,  and,  muttering  in  his  throat, 
the  old  chief  crept  into  his  eider  nest,  and, 
like  a  duck  within  its  warmth  of  feathers 
the  two  men  slept. 

That  night  the  dreaded  storm  came  down 
and  such  a  storm  no  man  had  ever  seen  in 
all  the  North.  Nine  days  it  blew.  Nine 
nights  its  roar  was  on  the  hills  of  rocks 
piled  high  as  broken  trees.  Nine  sunless 
mornings  came.  The  falling  fleece  turned 
darkest  night  to  gray.  From  out  the  north 
chaotic  whirlwinds  rushed,  whirling  in  scream- 


22  UNGAVA. 

ing  eddies  onward.  The  upper  stillness,  which, 
woven  by  the  gods  in  silent  looms,  is  folded 
like  a  downy  mantle  round  the  world  as  vest- 
ment cast  by  slumber  over  weary  beds,  was 
torn  in  shrieking  shreds  and  blown  down  the 
gale  in  strips  of  noise.  The  forest,  like  a  man 
entombed  alive,  moaned,  writhed,  and  roared, 
unseen.  Hills  into  distance  ran  from  sight. 
The  streams  stopped  running  and  the  lakes 
lay  shivering,  dumb  and  black,  beneath  the 
ice  that  was  itself  invisible.  The  world  turned 
gray,  and  through  the  whirling,  eddying  fleece 
the  lenses  of  the  eye  reflected  only  falling 
flakes.  Chaos  had  come  again  and  all  the 
earth  was  without  form  and  void. 

Amid  the  storm  whose  fury  blotted  out  the 
world,  the  two  men,  blinded,  faint  from  hun- 
ger, wandered  on.  Each  day  they  groped  for 


UNGAVA.  23 

shelter ;  each  night,  burrowed  under  snow, 
awaiting  death.  All  skill  was  vain  ;  all  cour- 
age useless.  They  felt  that  they  were  doomed. 
Twice  had  the  chief  refused  to  move.  Twice 
had  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  vacancy.  And  twice 
the  death-song  struggled  in  his  tongueless 
throat.  The  Trapper  would  not  yield.  His 
heart  was  true  as  tested  steel  to  bravest  hand. 
It  would  not  break  nor  bow  to  shock,  how- 
ever heavy.  Twice  had  he  rallied  his  old 
friend  from  trance  for  further  effort,  when, 
staggering  onward  round  the  sharp  edge  of 
a  ledge,  they  slipped  together  and  both  fell 
through  covering  snow  into  a  fissure  yawn- 
ing wide,  and  downward  half  a  hundred  feet 
they  slid  into  a  mighty  cavern  ! 

So,  into  shelter  under  ground,  through  God's 
mercy,  had  they  dropped,  when,  blinded  by  the 


24  UNGA  VA. 

storm,  and  hunger-faint,  they  stumbled  from 
the  cliff  and  fell.  The  cliff,  a  rounded  bowlder 
nicely  poised,  had  lost  its  balance  as  they  fell, 
and,  rolling  after,  lay  on  the  shute  through 
which  they  slid,  huge  and  heavy  as  a  hill. 

Then  spake  the  Trapper,  as  he  staggered  to 
his  feet,  grimly  jesting  in  the  face  of  death  : 

"  Here  are  we  safely  housed,  old  friend,  at 
last !  Never  did  mongrel  cur,  chased  by  she- 
wolf,  skurry  into  kennel  faster.  I  fell  with 
legs  so  wide  apart  that  all  the  hillside  fol- 
lowed. Its  cobbles  pelted  on  my  back  as  I 
slid  downward.  I'll  strike  a  light  and  see  if 
we  have  host  to  welcome  lodgers." 

Then  he  struck  light  and  to  the  wick  of  a 
short  candle  placed  it ;  and  as  it  kindled  into 
blaze  he  held  it  high  above  his  head  and  in 
the  light  it  gave  the  two  men  sought  with 


UNGAVA.  25 

earnest    eyes    the    nature    of    the   place,    and 
whether  it  were   home  or  grave. 

It  was  an  old-time  cave.  Home  had  it 
been  and  grave,  for  those  whose  deeds  and 
death  are  prehistoric.  In  ages  lost  to  memory 
of  men,  man  had  been  there  before.  Fleeing 
from  sudden  heat  that  blasted,  or  dreadful  cold 
succeeding  heat,  or  from  that  awful  monster ' 

1  Many  tribes  of  Red  Men  have  among  them  the 
legend  of  a  great  catastrophe  caused  by  a  comet  strik- 
ing the  earth.  The  story  or  myth  of  a  "flying  dragon, 
breathing  fire  and  smoke,"  is  found  in  all  old  literatures, 
and  always  connected  with  a  vast  ruin  wrought  on  the 
earth.  There  is  no  reason,  in  the  nature  of  things,  why 
a  collision  should  not  occur  between  the  earth  and  one 
of  the  many  "monstrous  and  lawless  wanderers  of  the 
skies."  Nor  is  it  inconceivable  that  such  a  collision  in 
the  remote  past  did  occur.  Assuming  this  to  be  true, 
many  remarkable  and  now  mysterious  phenomena  on  the 
earth's  surface  could  be  easily  explained.  Kepler  de- 


26  UNGAVA. 

bursting  out  of  distance  into  northern  sky, 
nigh  where  the  steadfast  star  now  sentinels 
the  heavens,  and  breathing  fires  in  volume 
wider  than  the  world,  rushed,  tearing  down- 
ward toward  the  pole,  struck  the  even  earth 
head  on  and  knocked  it  from  its  level  poise, 
changing  its  course  forever,  so  burying  all  in 

clared  that  "comets  are  scattered  through  the  heavens 
with  as  much  profusion  as  fishes  in  the  ocean."  Lalande 
had  a  list  of  seven  hundred  comets  observed  in  his  time. 
Arago  estimated  that  the  comets  belonging  to  the  solar 
system,  within  the  orbit  of  Neptune,  number  seventeen 
and  a  half  millions.  While  Lambert  says  five  hundred 
millions  are  a  very  moderate  estimate.  And  this,  be  it 
remembered,  does  not  include  those  that  are  constantly 
pouring  in  from  the  infinite  spaces  beyond  the  limits  of 
the  solar  system.  When  the  multitude  of  the  comets  is 
considered,  the  wonder  is,  not  that  one  has  struck  the 
earth,  but  rather  that,  if  I  may  so  speak,  the  earth  has 
managed  to  dodge  them  at  all ! 


UNGAVA.  27 

ruin  :  —  hither  to  this  deep  cavern  had  he  with 
his  children  wildly  run,  and,  screaming,  plunged 
into  it,  as  men  to-day  running  out  of  fire  with 
garments  blazing  plunge  headlong  into  saving 
wells. 

There  had  he  lived,  there  fed  his  hunger, 
worshipped  God,  wrought  with  his  hands  — 
and  died.  For,  scattered  here  and  there,  were 
instruments  of  stone  :  a  hatchet,  flint  heads  for 
spears,  and  arrows  sharpened  with  laborious 
pains.  Brands,  too,  were  there,  which  once 
had  glowed  with  fire  for  human  need,  —  charred 
proofs  of  tribes  and  primal  things,  which  any 
careless  foot  may  spurn  as  worthless,  and  yet 
be  older  than  the  Pyramids.  Amid  the  dust 
the  foot  disturbed  were  teeth  of  men  and 
animals  that  lived  in  the  forgotten  ages. 
Searching  through  an  inner  passage,  seeking 


28  UNGAVA. 

outlet,  the  Trapper  found  a  knife  of  bronze 
lying  on  the  floor,  its  handle  resting  in  the 
dusty  outline  of  a  human  hand,  and  wondered 
if  the  breast  that  felt  it  last  had  been  of  priest 
or  victim.  Who  might  say  ?  Who,  who  might 
ever  tell  the  secrets  of  that  dread  place  and 
symbol  ?  Here,  penned  with  death,  for  many 
days  they  groped  and  sat  in  gloom.  At  last 
the  Trapper,  feeling  that  death  was  nigh,  said 
suddenly,  "  Old  friend,  our  time  to  say  farewell 
has  come."  Then,  for  the  last  time  lighted  he 
the  feeble  wick,  and,  as  it  warmed,  the  small 
flame  slowly  grew  until  it  globed  with  yellow 
light  the  central  gloom.  Then  rose  the  chief 
of  Mistassinni,  cast  robe  of  fur  aside,  and, 
grim,  gray  and  withered,  stood  forth  to  sight, 
and  to  the  Trapper  signed : 

"Trapper,  we  die  a   death   of  shame.     We 


UNGAVA.  29 

are  not  men.  We  are  as  hedgehogs  in  a 
hole,  shut  in  by  ice.  Here  shall  we  die  and 
rot,  and  be  no  more  forever,  —  never  see  light 
of  day,  nor  breathe  the  upper  air.  I  am  a 
chief.  Before  the  Esquimau  tore  out  my 
tongue  and  ate  it,  my  voice  was  heard  in 
every  battle  fought  through  all  the  North,  and 
where  it  sounded  men  knew  Death  was  there, 
and  shrank.  Only  the  Chief1  and  you  had 
fame  so  great.  In  feasts  and  dance,  and  when 
the  stake 2  was  struck,  our  names  were  linked 
together  like  three  equal  stars,  and  mothers 
of  the  Esquimaux  hushed  crying  child  with 
whispered  mention  of  our  awful  fame.  But 

1  Referring  to  the  chief  who  was  uncle  to  Atla.     [See 
Mamelons.] 

2  The    stake  around  which  the  war  dance  is  danced, 
and    into   which   each   warrior   strikes   his   hatchet,  thus 
signifying  his  enlistment  for  the  war. 


30  UNGAVA. 

dying  here  like  starving  hog  in  hole,  I  never 
more  may  see  the  lodges  of  my  tribe '  nor 
sit  in  council  with  the  chiefs  among  whom  I 
am  greatest.  The  battle  will  be  set,  and  he 
I  hate  will  live.  And  younger  men  will 
never  know  my  fame.  Do  for  me  one  more 
deed,  far  better  than  that  one  you  did  for 
me  upon  the  ridge  above  the  Saguenay  when 
you  did  save  me  from  the  Esquimaux,  and 
prove  your  love  again.  Draw  now  thy  knife, 
and  place  its  point  betwixt  the  ribs  that  are 
above  my  heart,  that  I  may  lean  upon  it  and 
die  as  warrior  dies  in  battle  under  foeman's 
knife,  and  not  be  smothered  like  a  hog  in 
hole." 

1  An  Indian  believes  that  if  he  is  smothered  under- 
ground, his  spirit  will  remain  buried  with  his  body,  and 
never  reach  the  Spirit-land,  viz.,  that  he  will  miss  the 
blessing  of  immortality. 


UNGA  VA.  31 

And  from  his  shrunken  shoulders,  haughtily, 
his  blanket  did  he  cast,  and  posed  himself 
above  the  burning  wick  whose  dying  flame 
began  to  waver,  that  friendship  might  do  for 
him  the  deed  he  prayed  for. 

Then  said  the  Trapper,  speaking  through 
the  failing  flashes  of  the  light : 

"  Never  before,  old  Chief,  did  friend  in 
dying  ask  deed  of  me  I  did  not  do.  But 
this  I  may  not.  I  may  not  redden  knife  of 
mine  with  thy  old  blood.  I  am  a  man  without 
a  cross,1  and  such  a  deed  I  am  forbid.  It  is 
not  fit.  Your  superstition  is  not  true.  Out 
of  this  cavern  filled  with  old-time  bones,  we 
two  will  go  at  death  into  free  air :  thou  to 
the  lodges  of  thy  tribe ;  I  to  her  throne.2 

1  A  pure-blooded  white. 

a  Referring  to  his  joining  at  death  his  beloved  Atla, 


32  UNGAVA. 

Hunger  has  done  its  work,  and  we  are  weak. 
We  will  lie  down  and  sleep  as  after  battle, 
battle-tired.  Sleeping,  we  soon  shall  pass 
to  deeper  sleep,  and  so  to  happy  waking. 
Old  friend,  the  light  is  going.  Brief  is  our 
parting.  Look.  With  this  failing  flash  I  give 
thee  dying  cheer,  and  bid  thee  long  farewell." 
And  with  the  word  the  light  went  out,  and 
in  the  gloom  of  that  old  grave  of  prehistoric 
man  the  two  men  stood,  lost  to  each  other's 
sight  forever. 

who,  in  dying  [see  Mamelons],  beheld  herself  elected 
by  the  gods  to  sit  on  the  "  last  and  highest  throne  of  her 
old  race." 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE    COMING    OF   UNGAVA. 

OO  stood  the  two  in  darkness  and  in 
^  silence,  waiting  death.  The  one  with 
Indian  patience  grim  and  dumb ;  the  other, 
brave,  high-hearted,  revolving  many  thoughts. 
When,  suddenly,  the  pulseless  air  moved  with 
vibrations.  The  awful  silence  grew  sweetly 
vocal,  and  a  voice,  clear-toned  as  silver  bell  or 
flute,  said,  from  afar : 

"  Who  speaks  of  dying  and  of  shameful 
death?  Whose  voice  bids  friend  the  long 
farewell,*  and  gives  him  dying  cheer?  No 
death  is  here,  nor  dying.  Ungava  comes ! " 
And  in  the  distant  gloom,  far  down  the  cav- 

33 


34  UNGA  VA. 

erned  corridor,  shone  out  a  star,  pure  white, 
intense,  illuminating  all,  and  in  its  dazzling 
radiance,  clothed  in  white  fur  from  head  to 
foot,  a  wand  within  her  hand  uplifted  high 
whose  point  burned  unconsumed,  with  face 
of  snow,  and  eyes  and  hair  of  night's  jet  hue, 
floating  on  as  vision  seen  in  dream,  there 
came  —  a  girl ! 

So  in  the  white  light  stood  the  three,  and 
on  the  one  the  two  did  gaze  with  eyes  that 
grew  with  wonder.  No  greater  change  might 
there  have  been  had  angel  of  the  Lord 
descended  to  that  cave  to  summon  dust  and 
bone  of  dead  humanity  to  glorious  resurrec- 
tion. Then,  rallying  from  first  shock  of  vast 
surprise,  the  Trapper  awe-struck  said : 

"  Shadow  or  substance.  Spirit  or  flesh.  I 
know  not  which,  strange  vision,  but  by  the 


UNGAVA.  35 

living  God  I  know  that  never  unto  man  in 
deeper  need  did  he  send  saving  angel.  Who 
art  thou,  thou  who  bearest  name  of  wildest 
shore  on  the  round  earth,  and  of  what  world  ? 
Speak  message  out,  and  tell  thy  tale ;  for 
whether  I  be  quick  or  dead,  I  know  not  as 
I  look  on  thee." 

Then,  clear  as  bell  or  flute  in  evening  air 
of  summer,  came  the  words,  filling  all  the 
cave  with  sweetness  like  a  song  sung  by 
unseen  singer : 

"  John  Norton,  thou  art  known  to  me,  for 
I  have  seen  thee  when  a  thousand  miles 
divided.  Amid  the  smoke  of  battle  have  I 
seen  thee  move  when  death  went  with  thee, 
step  for  step.  Asleep,  at  night,  beneath  the 
pines  or  at  the  base  of  rocks  in  strange  wild 
places  in  the  woods,  above  thee,  sleeping,  have 


36  UNGAVA. 

I  stood  and  warded  evil  from  thee.  Wild 
beasts  and  wilder  men  with  nose  of  hunger 
and  with  eyes  of  hate,  have  I  turned  or  fright- 
ened from  thy  couch,  and  in  the  morning  thou 
didst  wake  refreshed  and  safe,  as  one  who 
knows  not  he  is  guarded.  I  am  a  spirit. 
This  mortal  frame  I  use,  but  am  not  of  it.  I 
am  thy  angel.  Before  his  face  that  is  forever 
veiled,  I  stand  forever  pleading.  For  every 
soul  born  into  flesh  has  guardian  spirit.  Thine 
am  I,  and  I  have  come  in  hour  of  need  to 
save.  Great  service  do  I  thee.  Great  service 
must  thou  do  in  turn  for  me.  Here  hast 
thou  wandered  into  realms  where,  mid  the 
ruins  of  a  world  collapsed,  the  arts  and 
mysteries  of  that  ruined  world  live  on.1  My 

1  The  prophet   of   the    Nasquapee    tribe    or  race  —  I 
incline  to  the  view  that  they  are  originally  of  a  different 


UNGAVA.  37 

soul  is  thine.  Thy  soul  is  mine.  We  two 
are  knit  forever.  So  much  I  tell  thee  now. 
The  rest  shall  be  revealed  as  time  moves  on. 
My  grandsire,  after  flesh,  is  Prophet  of  the 
North.  He,  child  of  the  White  God.  This 
old  chief  knows  my  line,  and  therefore  me. 
At  Mistassinni  did  that  line  begin.  At  Mis- 
tassinni  will  it  end.  For  he  and  I  must  sleep 
where  his  and  my  ancestors  sleep,  in  that  old 

racial  stock  than  the  red  Indian  —  held  that  the  world 
had  been  wrecked  by  a  vast  and  far-reaching  catastrophe, 
and  his  race  —  all  save  a  small  remnant  —  destroyed  by 
it.  He  also  held  that  that  old  race,  thus  destroyed,  was 
the  custodian  of  arts  and  powers,  mysterious  and  potent 
on  dead  and  living  alike,  and  that  these  had  been 
originally  taught  them  by  "  the  gods  ; "  viz.,  superior 
beings,  who  had  come  from  some  other  sphere,  bringing 
with  them  knowledge  and  powers  "too  high  for  mortal 
minds."  And  that  this  fearful  knowledge  had  been  con- 
tinued in  his  line,  or  caste,  and  was  known  to  him. 


38  UNGAVA. 

cave  where  sound    in    constant   council  voices 
of  the  dead  and  spirit  murmurings." ' 

Then  to  the  chief  she  said  : 

"  Old  Chief,  above  thy  head  a  hundred  years 

1  There  is  at  Mistassinni  a  celebrated  cave,  which  is 
regarded  by  the  Indians  with  the  utmost  reverence,  awe, 
and  fear.  Not  one  of  them  will  ever  look  at  it  to  this  day 
in  passing.  The  reason  of  this  profound  feeling  seems 
to  be  found  in  their  superstitious  conviction  that,  from 
remote  time,  their  dead  chiefs  were  buried  in  it,  as  were 
also  their  prophets  or  sorcerers.  It  seems  to  have  been 
the  sepulchre  of  ancient  days  and  people,  for  it  has  not 
been  so  used  for  a  long  time.  They  believe  that  the 
spirits  of  the  dead  hold  their  councils  there,  and  that 
ghostly  debate  is  constantly  going  on  within  its  great 
chamber.  I  cannot  ascertain  that  any  one  has  ever 
actually  visited  this  celebrated  cavern,  or  has  any  accu- 
rate knowledge  of  its  size  or  appearance.  All  that  is 
known  of  it  is  that  it  was  once  the  place  of  sepulchre, 
and  is  regarded  with  utmost  fear  and  veneration  by  all 
the  tribes  of  the  North. 


UNGAVA.  39 

have  rolled.  Look  with  the  eyes  of  many 
days.  Behold,  the  first  and  last  am  I.  Thou 
knowest  fate,  and  its  old  voice.  For,  when 
the  first  White  God  did'st  come  from  out  of 
sea  in  boat  not  built  by  man,  and,  on  the 
beach  all  wet  and  foul  with  brine  and  sand, 
was  found  by  thy  old  sire,  who  then  was  boy, 
the  prophet  of  your  tribe  did  say,  '  When  girl 
is  born  instead  of  boy,  the  White  Gods 
die.'  Last  chief  of  Mistassinni,  here  amid 
the  ancient  dead,  the  daughter  of  the 
White  Ones,  doomed  like  thee  to  end  the 
line  of  glory,  brings  life  and  gives  thee 
greeting." 

Then  did  the  grim  old  Chief  do  mystic  deed. 
There,  standing  naked  to  his  waist,  the  Totem 
of  his  tribe  in  red  upon  his  breast,  he  lifted 
hands  of  plainest  pantomime.  Thrice  did  he 


40  UNGA  VA. 

wheel  the  sun  around  the  earth  in  stately 
motion.  Then  strung  his  bow,  and  from  his 
quiver  four  arrows  drew,  and,  breaking  pointed 
heads,  he  shot  the  harmless  bolts  to  south  and 
north,  to  east  and  west.  So  saying,  "Thy 
reign  is  one  of  peace,  and  over  all  the  earth." 
Then  from  his  head  the  horned  band  he  took 
—  that  symbol  of  old  sovereignty,  older  than 
earliest  throne,1  —  and  from  his  wrinkled  neck 

1  Horns,  as  symbolic  of  power  and  sovereignty,  are, 
literally,  older  than  thrones.  Like  the  Cross  —  the  old- 
time  symbol  of  joy  and  plenty  —  they  run  backward  in 
time  beyond  all  interrogation.  When  or  how  the  sym- 
bolic significance  first  arose,  no  one  may  ascertain.  If 
there  was  no  other' evidence,  the  horns  of  the  bison  on 
the  head-band  of  an  Indian  chief  —  for  none  save  chiefs 
of  the  highest  rank  can  wear  them  —  would  prove  that 
the  red  men  of  this  continent  belong  to  the  primeval 
races.  As  the  Trapper  would  say,  "  That  is  a  sign  that 
cannot  lie  ! " 


UNGAVA.  41 

the  string  of  savage  claws,1  won  in  chanceful 
battle  with  the  polar  bear  whose  lightest  blow 
is  death,  —  a  necklace  whose  every  pearl  had 
come  at  risk  of  life,  —  and  laid  them  at  her 
feet.  Then  on  his  withered  breast  he  signed 
the  sacred  sign,  and  in  solemn  pantomime  took 

1  The  string  of  bear's  claws  round  the  neck  of  a  chief 
is  the  highest  possible  proof  of  his  skill,  courage,  and 
rank,  since  every  claw  in  the  necklace  must  have  been 
taken  from  a  bear  that  he  with  his  own  hand  —  unas- 
sisted by  any  —  had  killed.  When  it  is  remembered  that 
the  Indian  had  no  weapon  save  his  arrows,  his  hatchet, 
and  his  spear,  some  idea  of  the  strength  and  courage 
required  to  secure  such  savage  trophies  can  be  formed. 
It  takes  a  man  of  supremest  nerve  and  courage  to  face 
a  grizzly  or  polar  bear  with  a  Winchester  to-day.  What, 
then,  must  be  thought  of  the  stout-heartedness  of  one 
who,  alone,  and  armed  only  with  such  feeble  weapons 
as  the  native  Indian  had,  would  bravely  attack  these 
monstrous  animals  ?  Verily,  no  braver  race  of-  men 
ever  lived  than  the  red  Indian  of  this  continent. 


42  UNGA  VA. 

goblet  filled  with  water  and  poured  '  it  on  the 
ground.     Then  stately  stood,  and  signed  : 

"  Child  of  the  Gods  that  were  as  snow ! 
Daughter  of  Power  and  Mystery !  Queen  of 
Spirit- Land,  whose  coming  in  the  flesh  before 
I  died,  and  going  with  me  to  the  grave,  was 
told  a  hundred  years  ago  when  I  was  born  ! 
Ungava !  I,  Chief  of  ancient  times,  about  to 
die,  salute  thee  !  For,  the  same  Voice  that 
spoke  thy  fate,  above  me,  sleeping  in  my 
father's  tent,  did  say,  '  This  boy,  a  chief  to 
be  —  the  last  and  greatest  of  his  line  —  shall 
die  in  battle  with  his  foe  upon  the  sands  of 

1  The  Indians  of  the  Labrador  peninsula  present  to 
the  student  of  their  habits  and  customs  the  curious 
spectacle  of  being  both  Christian  and  pagan,  and  in 
an  equal  measure.  They  will  receive  absolution  at  the 
hands  of  the  priest,  and  the  next -instant  engage  with 
equal  sincerity  in  an  act  of  superstitious  worship. 


UNGA  VA.  43 

wild  Ungava,  when  from  the  White  Gods  shall 
be  born  a  girl  that  bears  its  name.'  So  art 
thou  known  to  me,  and  so  I  know  my  foe 
still  lives,  and  day  and  chance  will  come. 
Trapper,  'tis  well  thy  knife  stayed  in  its  sheath, 
for  now  I  know  I  shall  not  die  like  hog  in 
hole,  but  like  a  warrior  on  the  bloody  field, 
with  sound  of  battle  in  my  ears,  my  foe  beside 
me,  and  the  dead  in  heaps  around.  So,  like  a 
chief  shall  I  take  trail  that  leads  me  into  Spirit- 
land." 

Then,  after  pause,  the  Trapper  spake  : 
"  Ungava,  such  boastful  words  are  vain, 
and  vain  this  pantomime  of  worship.  The 
light  of  heaven  never  will  he  see,  nor  foe, 
nor  battle  red.  Here  are  we  penned  with 
death.  Through  veins  that  never  shrank  be- 
fore, a  chill  creeps  on,  and  all  my  frame  is 


44  UNGA  VA. 

weakened  of  my  power.  If  thou  art  able, 
lead  me  from  this  dreadful  place  filled  with 
the  smell  of  graves  and  dust  of  mouldered  men, 
to  where  my  eyes  can  see  the  sun  once  more 
and  to  my  nostrils  come  the  wind  that  blow- 
eth  strong  and  pure  ;  and,  whether  thou  be 
witch  or  woman,  soul  or  flesh,  a  living  sweet- 
ness or  the  mate  of  death,  to  me  thou  shalt 
be  angel  evermore." 

So  spake  the  Trapper  with  clear  tones.  To 
him  Ungava  listened  as  wanderer  listens  to 
sweet  song  sung  by  familiar  voice  through 
dewy  air  to  him  home-coming  :  —  a  song  that 
tells  of  love  and  home  and  peaceful  days  that 
have  been  his,  and  shall  be  his  again  forever. 
Then  to  him  said  : 

"  Fear  not.  Thou  shalt  see  sun  again. 
Upon  thy  face  shall  blow  the  wind  that  blow- 


UNGA  VA.  45 

eth  strong  and  pure.  I  am  the  queen  of 
under  and  of  upper  world.  The  earth  is  hol- 
low, and  its  outer  shell  is  cracked  with  pas- 
sages like  the  ice.  I  know  them  all.  They 
are  blazed  trails  to  me.  At  touch  of  mine 
they  flame  with  light  far  brighter  than  the  sun. 
I  know  the  under  ways,  —  a  labyrinth  of  pas- 
sages which  are  to  others  endless  as  those 
tangled  circles  where  the  wicked  dead  go 
wandering,  vainly  seeking  end  of  doom  and 
the  warm  light  of  upper  world,  whose  loves 
and  light  they  forfeited  by  evil  deeds  Through 
these  I  will  guide  safely  on  to  where  my  grand- 
sire  sits  whose  eyes  have  seen  the  coming  and 
the  going  of  three  times  fifty  years  ;  who  knows 
the  arts  and  mysteries  of  lost  worlds  and  ages, 
and  has  power  on  dead  and  living.  Nor  fear 
the  chill  that  bringeth  death,  nor  that  dread 


46  UNGAVA. 

weakening  which  has  shrivelled  up  the  full- 
veined  strength  that  in  thy  frame  was  born, 
that  I  have  seen  go  forth  in  battle  mightily, 
until  I  veiled  my  eyes  in  horror  at  the  red- 
ness of  thy  path  amid  the  bodies,  even  as  my 
soul,  admiring,  leaped,  glorying  in  thy  power. 
Here  in  this  vial,  cut  from  crystal  under  pole, 
where,  vibrant,  quick  with  living  sparks,  glows 
that  electric  force  which  is  of  Him  nor  man 
nor  spirit  ever  saw,  who  rules  the  universe  he 
made,  and  is  forever  making  by  laws  that  work 
forever,  —  the  great  I  AM,  —  is  vital  liquid, 
which,  were  you  dying  and  one  drop  was  laid 
upon  your  tongue,  you  would  rise  up  strong 
as  a  giant.  Thus  with  my  finger,  moistened 
with  this  living  essence,  I  wet  thy  bloodless 
lips.  And  thine,  old  withered  Chief;  and  bid 
ye  follow  me.  Twice  twenty  leagues  we  go 


UNGA  VA.  47 

through  warm  and  cold,  this  way  and  that, 
through  crust  of  earth  cracked  into  fissures 
when  the  fire-breathing  Dragon '  of  the 
North,  whose  tail  was  wider  than  the  world, 
struck  it  head  on,  until  we  come  to  where  my 
grandsire  waits  to  show  us,  ere  he  dies,  things 
that  were  and  things  that  are  to  be.  Come 
on  !  Come  on  !  I  am  thy  angel,  Trapper ! 
Follow  thou  the  light  that  burns  because  I 
will  it !  Follow  me,  and  fear  not !  I  am 
Ungava ! " 

1  The  breadth  of  the  tail  of  the  great  comet  of  1811, 
at  its  widest  part,  was  nearly  fourteen  millions  of  miles  ,- 
the  length  of  it,  one  hundred  and  sixteen  millions  of  miles. 
The  earth,  remember,  is  only  seven  thousand  nine  hun- 
dred and  forty-five  miles  wide.  If  the  tail  of  such  a 
comet  as  that  of  1811  should  sweep  over  our  globe,  it 
would  not  be  large  enough  to  make  a  bullet-hole  in  it ! 


CHAPTER   III. 

UNGAVA'S  LOVE. 

"  T  T  ERE  are  we  come  at  last.  Here,  safely 
guided,  I  have  brought  you  through  the 
under  ways  of  earth  :  —  the  cracks  and  fissures 
in  her  solid  crust,  made  in  the  ages  of  forgot- 
ten time,  when  out  of  distances  beyond  her 
orbit  fell  the  bolt  of  ruin  '  that  did  rive  apart 
the  underlying  granite.  Past  lakes  of  boil- 

1  It  is  a  remarkable  fact,  and  extremely  suggestive, 
that  a  belief  existed  among  the  Indian  tribes  of  the 
American  continent  that  the  earth  was  once  struck  by 
a  vast  physical  body  coming  suddenly  and  at  tremen- 
dous speed  out  of  space,  which  caused  an  enormous 
ruin.  We  find  this  legend  or  old-time  faith  among  the 
Aztecs,  the  Pueblo  Indians,  the  Mandans,  the  Dacotahs 

or  Siouxs,  the  Chicasaws  or  Creeks,  and  all  the  many 

48 


UNGA  VA.  49 

ing  water,  hot  with  central '  heat ;  on  banks 
of  rivers  sulphur-edged  and  bottomed ;  past 
springs  whose  flames  burn  blue  and  white, 
yielding  no  smoke,  and  dreadful  pits  which 
vent  the  smothered  fires  where  righteous  igno- 
rance believes  are  penned  the  damned  ;  I,  you 

branches  of  the  Algonquin  family.  With  more  or  less 
difference  in  descriptive  details,  as  would  naturally  be 
expected,  the  great  fact  is  the  same  in  each  tribe  or 
race.  With  this  legend  are  blended  other  ones  of  cave 
life,  and  the  loss  and  renewal  of  the  seasons,  of  day 
and  night,  and  of  vast  climatic  changes  which  came 
to  portions  of  the  earth  inhabited  by  their  ancestors, 
as  the  result  of  this  monstrous  visitation.  Back  of  all 
these  legends  in  time,  there  must  have  been  some  fact 
as  the  originating  cause.  At  least,  so  it  would  seem. 

1  It  is  well  known  that  in  many  of  the  deep,  subterra- 
nean passages  of  the  earth,  especially  in  sections  of  the 
earth's  surface  subject  to  earthquake  forces,  the  waters 
are  hot,  and  some  of  the  springs  are,  literally,  of  boiling 
water. 


50  UNGA  VA. 

have  guided  and  brought  safely  on  to  sure  re- 
treat. Here,  crystal,  flow  sweet  waters.  Here 
bread  and  meat  await  your  hunger.  On  these 
piled  skins  and  under  eider  blankets  lighter 
than  moonlit  air,  you  can  find  blessed  sleep. 
Eat,  drink,  and  sleep.  Fear  not.  Trapper, 
this  light  is  of  the  day.  The  air  you  breathe 
has  poured  in  currents  past  the  stars.  When 
food  and  sleep  have  made  you  strong  again, 
Ungava  will  return,  and  taking  hand  in  hers, 
will  lead  you  up  where  you  shall  see  the  orb 
that  lights  the  world,  and  hear  beneath  the 
cliffs  the  tides  come  roaring  in.  Old  Chief, 
sleep  well  and  long.  You  shall  find  foe  and 
chance,  and  out  of  glorious  battle  go  like  war- 
rior to  your  sires.  Eat,  drink,  and  rest,  while 
from  my  chamber  nigh  I  sing  the  song  that 
bringeth  sleep  and  pleasant  dreams." 


UNGAVA.  51 

UNGAVA'S  SONG. 

i. 
When  men  do  sleep,  their  angels  keep 

Love's  watch  where'er  they  be. 
They  plant  or  till,  they  sow  or  reap 

On  mountain,  plain,  or  sea. 
They  lose  or  win,  they  laugh  or  weep. 

Who  knows  which  it  may  be  ? 
Sleep,  Trapper,  sleep.     Dream,  Trapper,  dream. 

There  comes  no  harm  to  thee. 

ii. 
Fair,  fair  is  she,  whose  deep  dark  eyes 

Gaze  fondly  down  on  thee. 
Warm,  warm  her  heart.     Beyond  the  skies 

She  longing  waits  for  thee. 
Her  bosom  white,  her  eyes  of  night, 

Are  waiting  there  for  thee. 
Sleep,  Trapper,  sleep.     Dream,  Trapper,  dream, 

Of  Heaven,  and  her,  and  —  me  ! 


52  UNGAVA. 

III. 
Mine,  mine  to  keep.     Hers,  hers  to  have. 

So  are  we  blessed  three. 
Soul  of  my  soul.     Heart  of  her  heart. 

I  keep.     She  has.     Ah,  me  ! 
The  lots  are  drawn.     The  wheel  stands  still. 

I  keep.     She  has.     Ah,  me  ! 
Sleep,  Trapper,  sleep.     Dream,  Trapper,  dream, 

Of  Heaven,  and  her,  and  —  me  ! 

IV. 

Before  our  birth  our  fates  are  fixed. 

How  may  they  altered  be  ? 
Why  murmur,  then  ?     Why  hope  or  wish  ? 

Who  can  the  end  foresee  ? 
If  I  lose  life,  I  yet  may  find 

The  life  I  lose  for  thee. 
Sleep,  Trapper,  sleep.     Dream,  Trapper,  dream, 

Of  Heaven,  and  her,  and  —  me  ' 


UNGAVA.  53 

v. 

Sweet,  sweet  to  one  is  duty  done 

When  heart  is  ruled  by  will. 
Sweet,  sweet  to  know,  as  clays  go  on, 

That  you  preserve  from  ill. 
I  may  not  have,  but  I  can  keep. 

So  let  the  wheel  stand  still. 
Sleep,  Trapper,  sleep.     Dream,  Trapper,  dream, 

Of  Heaven,  and  her,  and  —  me  ! 

So  slept  they  through  long  hours.  Then, 
by  the  longing  of  her  heart  impelled,  Ungava 
came  to  where  the  Trapper  slept,  eager  to 
look  upon  his  face  again.  So  softly  to  his 
chamber  did  she  steal,  and  standing  over  him 
still  slumbering  on,  she  said  : 

"  He  sleeps  !  O  sleep,  rest  lightly  on  him 
as  the  fur  upon  the  sleeping  ermine,  when 
under  its  warm  whiteness  his  little  life  reposes 


54  UNO  A  VA. 

undisturbed.  Be  to  his  wearied  frame  as  the 
cool  water  to  the  runner's  feet,  when,  hot  and 
swollen,  they  have  brought  him  safely  to  the 
end  of  perilous  trail,  foe-chased.  Be  to  his 
soul  as  is  that  volatile  oblivion  with  which 
the  gods  ease  pain,  to  wounded  warrior,  that 
he  may  feel  no  more  the  wounds  of  grief,  the 

pain    of  bruises  got    in    fearful    falls,  or   have 

« 

his  dreams  disturbed  by  roar  of  dubious  battle. 
O  sleep  !  sweet  jailer  of  the  soul,  lock  up  his 
senses  tight  within  his  mighty  breast ;  stop 
ear  so  closely  that  no  vagrant  sound  may  steal 
into  its  vaulted  vestibule  and  beat  its  vibrant 
drum.  Seal  down  his  heavy  lids  that  no  swift 
flash  of  light  electric  shall,  with  pointed  lances, 
pry  their  edges  open  ;  that  I  may  gaze  upon 
him  undisturbed  and  question  his  unconscious 
soul,  that,  as  the  ancient  oracles  with  lips  of 


UNGAVA.  55 

stone,  not  knowing  what  they  said  nor  sens- 
ing joy  or  doom,  so  it  may. speak  of  fate  and 
tell  me  if  I  live  or  die.  Thrice  round  him  will 
I  walk  that  he  in  sacred  circles  three  may  be 
enfolded.  Thrice  over  him,  recumbent,  the 
dust  of  dim  forgetfulness  I  sift,  that,  through 
its  drifts  oblivious,  he  may  not  wish  to  rise. 
So  sleeps  he  deep  and  well.  Ah,  me  !  if  to 
my  senses  there  could  come  such  blest  ob- 
livion !  " 

Long  stood  she  then  and  gazed  upon  him 
as  he  lay  asleep.  Then  walked  away,  hands 
clasped  in  doubt ;  returned,  and,  standing  over 
him,  exclaimed  : 

"  Oh,  heart  within,  be  still !  Rebellious 
bosom,  cease,  cease,  to  lift  and  sink  tumul- 
tuous !  Be  as  the  level  sea  when  ebb  is 
ended  and  the  flood  is  stayed.  And  ye,  pale 


56  UNGAVA. 

sisters,  gentle  spirits  of  the  skies,  in  whose 
sweet  loving  is  no  trace  of  mortal  passion, 
help  me  who  am  earth-born,  but  doomed  to 
be  unto  this  man,  or  god,  —  I  know  not  which, 
—  a  guard  and  guide  forever ;  to  chill  this  mor- 
tal warmth  within  me  into  ice,  lest  love  shall 
bring  me  woe  and  anguish  evermore.  Ah, 
me!  Ah,  me!  That  I,  a  woman,  should  be 
doomed  to  look  upon  a  man,  like  this !  To 
see  his  soul  pure  as  a  child's  ;  the  gentleness 
of  his  spirit  when  unvexed  ;  the  might  of  hand 
which,  single  and  alone,  shapes  battle ;  the 
modesty  of  nature  too  humble  to  know  its 
greatness  ;  and  that  old  sense  of  truth  which 
sweareth  to  its  hurt  and  changeth  not,  keep- 
ing word  and  bond  to  lowliest  given  unto  edge 
of  death,  —  and  be  forbid  to  love  him!  Did 
ever  woman  on  the  earth  before  have  fate  like 


UNGAVA.  57 

this  fall  on  her  !  Oh,  thou  who  did'st  weave 
fate  for  me,  appear,  appear,  and  tell  the  child 
of  ancient  days,  if  I  do  right  or  wrong  to 
question  destiny ! " 

Then,  in  reply,  from  out  the  gloom  of  farther 
distance  came  a  voice,  saying : 

"  Ungava,  light  of  face  but  dark  of  soul,1  fear 
not  to  question  and  to  know.  The  Powers  that 
work  for  thee  are  mighty.  The  threads  that 
wove  thy  fate  were  mixed  and  tangled  dubi- 
ously. Love  cuts  all  knots,  and  love,  per- 
chance, may  out  of  fate  deliver.  Child  of  the 
Past,  the  old  gods  love  you,  and  behold. 
Call  up  his  soul  and  question  freely.  It  shall 
speak  truth  oracular,  and  to  his  breast  return 
not  knowing." 

Then,  rallying  courage  for  the  deed,  Ungava 

said  : 

1  Referring  to  her  foreboding  of  coming  doom 


58  UNGAVA. 

"So  be  it,  then.  I  will  call  up  his  soul  and 
know  the  truth.  God  !  If  from  his  soul,  un- 
conscious, I  should  learn  that  from  his  eyes 
one  look  of  love  would  ever  come  to  mine 
before  I  die !  Such  look  would  last  me 
through  eternity  and  make  my  heaven  a  mem- 
ory ! "  Then,  proudly  posed,  with  hand  ex- 
tended, grasping  wand  of  power,  she  sang  : 

"  From    out    his    breast    where   thou    art   hid, 
Oh,  soul,  come    forth    when    thou    art    bid. 
Prepare   to   leave   thy   home   of   sense, 
And    love    shall    be    thy    recompense. 
For   one    brief    moment    rise    and    tell 
The   fate    that    makes    my    heaven    or    hell. 
I    fain    would    know   what    will   befall. 
So   come,    and    answer   love's    sweet   call. 

Now,    by  the    mother   that    did    bear, 
By   powers    of   earth    and    powers    of   air, 


UNO  A  V A.  59 

By   that    sweet    thing   you    most    do   love, 
On    earth    below    or   heaven    above. 
By   babe    in    cradle,    corpse    in    grave, 
And    by    this    wand    I    now   do   wave 
Above   his    sleeping   breast,    arise, 
And   here  take   form    before    my   eyes." 

Then  was  such  sight  as  mortal  never  saw. 
Around  the  Trapper,  as  he  slumbered  on,  a 
smoke  as  that  of  incense  did  arise,  in  color 
rosy-red,  until  it  hid  his  sleeping  form  from 
sight  of  gazer ;  and  out  of  its  enfolding  came 
a  voice,  which  said  : 

"  I  heard  a  voice  I  may  not  disobey  call  me 
from  out  this  sleeping  body  that  I  animate 
and  which  to  me  is  as  strong  hand  to  the 
directing  will.  Why  am  I  called  before  my 
time  ?  Ungava,  what  would'st  thou  know  of 
me,  or  him  ?  " 


60  UNGA  VA. 

Then  said  Ungava: 

"  If  ever  I  may  have  thee  as  mine  own." 

To  which  the  Voice  replied : 

"  Yea,  I  am  thine  already.  We  two  belong 
to  him." 

Ungava : 

"  But  I  am  woman.  And  a  woman's  wants 
are  mine.  Unless  he  loves,  I  must  bear  doom 
and  dole.  Oh,  tell  me,  will  he  love  me  ?  " 

To  this  the  Voice  : 

"  When  in  the  cave  which,  but  for  thee,  had 
been  his  grave,  he  swore — 'If  thou  would'st 
lead  him  forth  where  he  might  see  the  sun 
and  breathe  the  air  of  heaven,  thou  should'st 
be  Angel  to  him  evermore.' " 

Ungava : 

"  I  know.  I  know  his  angel  will  I  be.  But 
will  he  love  me  ?  " 


UNGAVA.  6 1 

Again  the  Voice : 

"The  woman  that  he  loves  must  be  a 
queen." 

Ungava : 

"  Queen  !  Queen  am  I.  My  throne  is  an- 
cient as  the  Stars  of  Morning.  Earth  and 
air,  past  world  and  future,  rule  I.  Speak 
once  again.  Shall  I  be  Queen  to  him  ? " 

To  this  the  Voice  made  slow  and  solemn 
ans\ver : 

"  If  thou  would'st  have  him  break  his  faith 
and  be  to  word  and  bond  untrue,  living  or 
dead,  then  may'st  thou  be  his  Queen." 

Then  slowly  thin  and  thinner  grew  the 
smoke  until  it  vanished,  and  in  the  cham- 
ber dim  and  dark  Ungava  stood  above  the 
Trapper,  slumbering  on. 

"Break  faith!"  she  slowly  said.     "To  word 


62  UNGAVA. 

and  bond,  be,  living  or  dead,  untrue  !  Oh, 
soul,  thou  did'st  mistake  if  thou  did'st  think  a 
woman's  love  would  tempt  the  man  she  loved 
to  such  a  deed.  This  man  is  honest.  Such 
other  one  there  may  not  be  to-day  on  earth. 
Within  his  breast  honor  is  as  the  breath  is  to 
his  nostrils.  Who,  by  the  gift  of  all  her  heart, 
has  paid  the  price  and  owns  him,  I  know 
not.  What  woman  of  these  later  clays  when 
women  have  lost  ancient  beauty  and  are 
dwarfed  from  loyalty's  high  port  to  fickle- 
ness, might  with  her  little  self  pay  queenly 
price,  is  past  all  credence.  Nay,  it  must  be 
false.  Such  woman  lives  not.  The  time  has 
been  when  women  in  their  beauty  wedded 
gods,  and  immortality  paid  the  price  of  death 
to  win  them,  and  winning  them,  died  happy 
in  their  arms.  But  that  is  past.  From  some 


UNGA  VA.  63 

old  grave  of  porphyry  or  pearl,  where  she  in 
sweet  embalmment  slept,  had  he  the  power  to 
summon  up  the  beauteous  dead  of  olden 
time,  some  Queen,  crowned  and  raimented 
in  royalty,  with  all  the  fire  and  passion  of 
her  sex's  perfection  in  her  blood,  might  have 
arisen  at  his  call,  and,  seeing  him  in  battle  or 
on  the  edge  of  death  stand  fearless,  flung 
herself  into  his  arms  and  claimed  him  for  her- 
self and  for  her  throne.  But  now !  It  cannot 
be.  There  is  no  woman  living  fit  for  him. 
My  power  shall  seek  and  find  her.  He  has 
been  cheated.  My  eyes  shall  see.  If  she  be 
fit  for  him  —  alas !  alas !  I  yield  him  to  her 
arms,  and  yielding  him  I  will  lie  down  and 
die,  and  in  the  grave  find  —  perhaps  —  forget- 
fulness  !  But  if  she  be  not  fit  ;  if  she  stand 
dwarfed  beside  him ;  if  he  were  cheated  by 


64  UNO  A  VA. 

some  accident  of  fate  that  came  with  tardy 
foot  or  ran  too  swift ;  if  she  be  not  as  crown 
to  kingly  head  ;  then  will  I  win  him  to  my- 
self, and  so  be  perfect  angel  in  being  perfect 
woman.  But  hush!  He  moves!  Ah,  what 
a  sigh  was  that !  I  thought  I  was  the  only 
one  that  sighed.  I  will  away,  and  come  again 
when  he  awake." 

Then  vanished  she.  As  light  retreats  into 
the  west  at  day's  decline  so  glided  she  into 
the  farther  openings  of  the  cave,  still  gazing 
backward  as  she  faded  into  darker  distance. 
The  Trapper  woke.  His  eyes  moved  in  their 
sockets,  seekingly,  as  one  who,  sleeping,  has 
lost  sense  of  place  and  time  and  circumstance ; 
then  memory  came,  and  sitting  half  recumbent 
murmured  he : 

"  Ungava  !    Atla  !     It  was  a  dreadful  dream  ! 


UNGAVA.  65 

As  wild  as  chief  e'er  dreamed  sleeping*  over- 
tired on  some  old  battle  plain.  I  will  arise 
and  wash  my  heated  face  with  cooling  water. 
I  would  I  knew  where  water  runs  that  might 
this  dreadful  dream  wash  from  my  memory !  " 

Then  in  the  ice-cold  tide  that  ran  in  pleas- 
ant murmurs  down  the  cavern's  side  he  bathed 
his  heated  face  and  cooled  the  fever  in  his 
eyes,  and,  thus  refreshed,  stood  gazing  down- 
ward musing  —  when  suddenly  he  stooped, 
and  with  observant  eye  studied  the  cavern's 
floor,  and  said : 

"  By  sacred '  sign  on  rifle  stock  I  swear  that 
little  imprint  there  was  outlined  by  Ungava's 

1  Many  of  the  rifles  among  the  northern  Indians  and 
trappers,  partly  from  priestly  influence,  perhaps,  and 
partly  from  religious  or  superstitious  motives  personal  to 
the  owner,  have  the  cross  carved  or  painted  on  them. 


66  UNGA  VA. 

foot !  See  !  Heel  and  forefoot  have  left  mark, 
but  the  arched  interval  between,  too  high  and 
firm  for  weight  to  flatten,  has  left  the  dust  un- 
stirred. The  savior  of  my  life  did  stand  and 
watch  me  as  I  slept !  Aye,  she  with  face  like 
purest  snow,  and  gloomy  soul  as  it  were  ever 
under  shadow,  and  eyes  that  hold  within  their 
fringes,  jet  as  night,  the  sorrow  of  a  world  long 
dead,  who  out  of  old-time  grave  and  instant 
death  did  snatch  me,  did  watch  and  ward  keep 
over  me  in  sleeping.  What  may  I  ever  do  to 
balance  up  the  scales  that  now  so  heavily  slope 
obliquely  in  her  favor?  She  said  great  service 
must  I  do  for  her.  I,  standing  in  that  dreadful 
tomb,  chilled  and  weakened  nigh  to  death,  did 
give  her  word  and  bond  if  she  should  lead  me 
to  the  upper  world  where  I  might  see  the  sun 
once  more  and  feel  the  air  blow  strongly  on  my 


UNGAVA.  67 

cheek,  she  should  be  angel  to  me  evermore. 
That  word  and  bond  thus  given  will  I  keep  if 
hand  or  heart  of  mine  may  keep  it  this  side 
death,  or  on  beyond  it.  But,  God  of  heaven, 
what  is  this  ?  That  impress  in  the  Polar  fur 
where  lay  my  head !  If  death  were  settling 
darkly  in  my  eyes,  through  dying  film  and 
glaze  well  should  I  know  that  little  trail. 
There  stood  Ungava.  Here  above  my  head 
did  Atla  stand.  My  God,  that  they,  my  savior 
and  my  Love,  should  in  this  chamber  stand 
together  over  me,  and  I  sleep  on !  Am  I  on 
earth,  or  spirit  land  ?  —  What  may  this  visita- 
tion mean  ? " 

Then  as  he  musing  stood  Ungava  came  with 
noiseless  step  into  the  chamber,  and  gliding  to 
his  side  she  gently  said  : 

"  Trapper,  twice    has    the    sun  come   to  the 


68  UNGA  VA. 

earth  and  gone  since  thou  did'st  sleep,  and 
now  the  moon  shines  whitely  on  the  world. 
If  thou  art  rested,  we  will  go  and  thou  shalt 
look  upon  her  beauty  and  shalt  hear  the 
music  of  the  sea  which  rolls  its  rhythm  under 
sounding  cliffs.  What  troubles  thee  ?  Hath 
not  thy  sleep  been  sound  and  restful  ? " 

"  Sound,  sound  it  was  in  truth,  O  thou 
whose  face  is  as  the  moon,  my  savior  and 
my  angel :  but,  O  Ungava,  as  I  slept  strange 
dreams  did  come  !  " 

"Dreams?"  said  Ungava.  "What  dreams 
did  vex  thy  sleep,  may  I  not  know  ? " 

"  Aye,  aye,"  he  cried,  "  thou  shalt  know 
all.  For  thou  do'st  love  me  and  art  wise 
beyond  the  wisdom  of  dull,  earthly  man. 
Perchance  thou  can'st  the  riddle  read  and 
tell  me  what  the  vision  means." 


UNGA  VA.  69 

Then  calmly  she:  "Say  on,  and  tell  me 
all.  No  doubt  I  can  the  riddle  read  and 
give  its  meaning." 

Then  solemnly  the  Trapper  said : 
"  Ungava,  listen.  As  I  lay,  my  senses 
locked  in  slumber  deep,  —  so  deep  I  doubt 
if  roar  of  coming  battle  would  have  stirred 
me,  —  forgetful  of  all  earthly  happenings  as 
the  dead :  suddenly  I  seemed  to  hear  the 
sound  of  music  coming  through  the  air  in 
strangest  song  by  dead  or  living  heard,  — 
a  song  sung  for  my  soul !  In  answer  to  that 
song  my  soul  did  leave  my  bosom  and  slowly 
rising  stand,  as  a  thing  unseen,  above  me. 
Then  voices  did  I  hear.  Questions  that  my 
ears  could  not  retain  were  asked  and  answered. 
Some  soul  was  seeking  of  my  soul  for  knowl- 
edge which  it  would  or  could  not  give  ;  and  all 


70  UNGAVA. 

the  world  around  me  was  as  are  the  heavens 
when  the  clouds  above  Ungava's  torrent  tides 
at  sunrise  roll  upward  rosy  red.  Then,  sud- 
denly, the  voices  ceased  ;  my  soul  sank  down- 
ward to  its  mortal  home  within  my  breast ;  the 
red  clouds  faded,  and  I  knew  no  more  until 
I  woke.  Spirit  of  knowledge,  tell  me  what 
it  was  I  heard  or  seemed  to  hear.  What  is 
the  meaning  of  this  dreadful  dream  ? " 

Then  said  she,  lightly,  "  Dear  friend,  thou 
wast  o'er-tired.  Thy  body  had  been  sorely 
taxed,  and  all  thy  senses  tumbled  into  sleep 
as  shot  bear  tumbles  over  edge  of  cliff  and 
at  the  base  dies  struggling.  It  was  a  fever 
vision,  an  unreal  distortion  of  the  fancy  ; 
nothing  more.  Forget  it." 

Then  did  the  Trapper,  strongly  moved,  place 
hand  upon  her  shoulder,  and  exclaim : 


UNGA  VA.  7 1 

"  Ungava,  I  can  see  some  dread  is  on  thee, 
and  from  fear  of  hurting  me  thou  boldest  back 
the  truth.  Thy  soul  is  wiser  than  thy  words. 

% 

Look  at  that  imprint  in  the  film  of  dust  upon 
the  floor.  There  did  my  body  lie.  There  at 
my  feet  thy  foot  did  come  and  stand.  Were 
I  on  dying  bed,  with  dying  gasp  I'd  swear  that 
thy  white  moccasin  did'st  make  that  imprint 
on  the  floor.  That  is  not  all.  Angel  of  my 
life !  Savior  in  hour  of  death !  Look  here, 
here  in  the  snowy  fur  of  this  white  polar's 
skin,  see !  see  that  footprint  where  a  little  foot 
did  leave  its  tell-tale  outline  in  the  yielding 
hair !  Whose  foot  made  that  ?  There  at  my 
feet,  Ungava,  as  I  slept,  did'st  thou  or  thine 
own  spirit  stand.  And  here,  by  Him  who  made 
the  world,  were  I  at  judgment  bar,  with  hell  be- 
fore me,  I  would  swear,  upon  this  skin,  seen  or 


72  UNGA  VA. 

'unseen  by  you,  with  arms  outstretched  above 
to  shield  or  claim,  did  my  sweet  Atla  stand ! 
My  God !  what  does  it  mean  ? " 

Whiter  than  winding  sheet  her  face  beside 
his,  gazing,  grew.  One  hand  clutched  breast 
as  if  to  tear  it  open.  Back  from  her  shoulder 
stretched  her  other  arm,  rigid  and  stiff.  The 
hand  was  clinched  in  horror.  Her  widely 
opened  eyes  bulged  wildly  prominent  —  two 
orbs  of  black  surprise.  Then  into  air  her 
white  hands  did  she  dash,  and  such  a  scream 
burst  out  of  mouth  as  never  shredded  air 
before.  And  hurling  wand  from  quivering 
hand,  she  dashed  from  out  the  chamber  as 
if  upon  her  had  come  down,  like  bolt  from 
heaven,  an  overwhelming  fear  or  shame. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE   WIZARD    OF    THE   NORTH. 

T  N  his  vast  chamber,  vaulted  high,  whose 
ledge-like  sides  were  knobbed  with  metals, 
precious  stones,  gold,  silver  pale,  pyrites  of 
iron,  garnets,  blocked  crystals,  diamonds  bar- 
baric, stones  of  blood  and  countless  gems, 
and  from  whose  dome  stalactites  pendent 
hung,  sat  the  Great  Wizard  of  the  North. 
This  caverned  hall  was  Nature's  marvel.  It 
was  as  if  some  god  before  first  day  and  night 
had  been,  when  chaos  ruled,  arid  all  the  globe 
was  soft  as  heated  mud,  with  hands  whose 
palms  were  wide  as  landscapes,  had  in  wildest 
freak  or  wanton  merriment,  with  strength  gi- 

73 


74  UNO  A  VA. 

gantic,  flung  all  metals  known  to  forming 
nature  down  in  showers,  and  laughed  to  see 
them  fall  into  the  stiffening  ooze,  which,  hard- 
ening, held  fast  the  treasure- trove  of  mighty 
mirth.  Thus,  when  the  cavern  was  by  shock 
volcanic  formed,  its  sides  and  vaulted  roof 
wide-spanned  and  high  were  weighted  with 
the  wealth  of  empires.  In  this  vast  chamber 
thus  adorned,  rich  in  barbaric  splendor,  the 
Wizard  of  the  North,  her  grandsire,  Ancient 
of  Days,  whose  stay  on  earth  v:as  thrice  the 
length  of  mortal  man's,  sat  in  his  awful  chair 
—  a  seat  of  power  which  had  come  down  from 
primal  days,  huge  and  high,  carved  with  weird 
shapes,  bristling  with  polished  horns  whose 
every  point  shone  like  a  star  —  on  jet-black 
pavement  placed,  upon  whose  lustrous  gloom 
was  traced  in  gold  the  sacred  circle  of  the 


UNGAVA.  75 

Zodiac.  His  hair  was  white  as  whitened  wool. 
His  face  was  pale  with  years  and  thought 
and  study  of  deep  things.  His  eyes  were 
living  blackness.  Above  them  brows  of  snow 
projected.  On  one  thin  hand  there  shone 
such  stone  as  never  man  beheld,  which  flashed 
and  glowed,  changed  color  fitfully,  then  veiled 
its  splendor  in  dull  red,  and  slept.  Anon  its 
mystic  fires  would  blaze  again,  and  hot  and 
hotter  burn  until  they  flamed  the  hand  with 
splendor.  Within  the  other  hand,  laid  listless 
on  his  lap,  was  rod  of  that  old  mystic  metal 
which  to  our  modern  ignorance  is  but  a  name, 
but  once,  with  its  strange  powers,  was  known 
to  men  and  had  high  use.  In  it  were  noises 
constant,  as  of  snapping  fire,  and  ever  now 
and  then  a  spark  shot  forth.  Nor  lacked  it 
power  to  move  and  lift  the  hand  that  held  it. 


76  UNGAVA. 

It  was  strange  rod.  A  living  proof  of  ancient 
mystery  which  startled  Egypt  into  justice,  if 
sacred  text  be  true.1  Thus,  in  strange  state 
and  style,  the  mighty  Wizard  of  the  North, 
the  weird  embodiment  of  powers  and  arts  and 
vital  agencies  beyond  the  ken  of  moderns, 
sat  musing,  lost  within  himself.  Then  opened 
he  his  mouth  and,  as  one  holding  audience 
with  himself,  he  said : 

"  I  know  not  what  it  means !  Thrice  has 
the  Rod  stood  upward  in  my  listless  palm, 
unmoved  by  me !  Not  for  a  hundred  years 
has  this  old  symbol  on  my  hand,  instinct 
with  primal  sense,  burned  with  such  fierce 

1  Exodus,  vii.  chap.  10,  n,  12.  —  "And  Aaron  cast 
down  his  rod  before  Pharaoh  and  before  his  servants, 
and  it  became  a  serpent.  Then  the  magicians  of  Egypt 
cast  down  every  man  his  rod,  and  they  became  ser- 
pents ;  but  Aaron's  rod  swallowed  up  their  rods." 


UNGAVA.  77 

and  fitful  fires.  Twice  past  me  since  I  sat 
within  this  chair  my  ears  have  caught  the 
sound  of  flitting-  feet.  They  came  in  haste, 
and  when  they  went,  they  flew.  I  felt,  but 
could  not  see  the  presence  pass.  It  must  be 
so.  One  of  that  race  which  planted  earth 
with  power  and  beauty  and  high  knowledge 
has  drawn  a  line  across  the  distances,  so 
vast  that  light  itself  might  never  shaft  the 

o  o 

mighty  intervals,  and  in  this  cave  has  come 
and  gone !  There  is  not  other  one  unless 
of  that  one  race,  in  living-land  or  dead-land, 
my  eyes  might  not  behold  in  passing.  Nor, 
of  that  race  is  one,  unless  she  be  of  that 
old  queenly  line  that  lifted  gods  unto  their 
throne,  and  by  that  graciousness  did  make 
them  greater.  But  wherefore  ?  What  is  there 
here  for  them  or  one  of  them,  that  she  should 


yg  UNGA  VA. 

leave  her  throne,  which,  were  its  glory  ten- 
fold brighter  than  the  sun's,  is  yet  so  far 
removed  from  this  small  earth  that  not  a 
point  of  light  might  tell  its  place  or  glory 
to  a  mortal's  eye  ?  What  soul  is  here  which 
through  such  space  could  send  or  call  forth 
message  ?  The  chief  of  Mistassinni,  withered 
and  old,  sleeps  out  of  weakness  unto  strength, 
waiting  for  foe  and  chance.  The  Trapper,  a 
vital  man  and  primal  in  the  greatness  of  his 
nature,  but  humble,  and  content  with  chase 
and  hound  and  honest  fight  and  mortal  cir- 
cumstance, sleeps  to  the  music  of  the  falling 
rill,  lulled  into  slumber  by  Ungava's  song. 
She,  under  fate  to  serve  him,  as  higher  spirit 
lower,  caught  in  the  eddy  of  a  mortal  passion, 
spins  struggling  round,  and  wildly  seeks  to 
know  the  issue  ere  it  comes.  These  three 


UNGAVA.  79 

are  here.  No  more.  Why  should  a  mighty 
throne  in  distant  universe  be  moved  by  what 
is  here,  to  visit,  invisible,  this  earthly  cavern  ? 
There  lifts  the  Rod  again !  The  Ring  burns 
hot  as  fire!  What  means  it?  Hist!  I 'hear 
the  stroke  of  flying  feet  and  rush  of  garments. 
It  is.  It  is.  Ungava  flying  comes !  " 

Thus  from  the  chamber  and  his  presence 
fled  she  terror-stricken,  filled  with  shame,  that 
she  had  been  observed  by  one  unseen  of 
her  when  she  revealed  her  soul  to  his,  seek- 
ing to  know  her  destiny.  Wild  with  fear  she 
fled  as  flees  the  fawn,  when  by  his  yell  the 
springing  panther  is  revealed,  —  a  ball  of 
tawny  fury  falling  through  the  air,  above  it 
feeding.  So  she  with  flashing  feet  fled  fast, 
her  garments  streaming  as  streams  the  plum- 
age of  a  pheasant  sailing  on,  until  she  came 


80  UNGAVA. 

to  that  high  hall  where,  in  his  chair  of  mystic 
state,  there  sat  the  Wizard  of  the  North,  her 
grandsire,  pondering  on  ancient  things  and 

siens    that    stirred    his    soul.     Into    his    awful 
t> 

presence  wildly  did  she  burst,  and  with  white 
face  and  hand  high  lifted,  before  him  stood 
and  cried : 

"  Sire  of  my  sire,  Ancient  of  Days,  who 
hath  the  early  and  lost  knowledge r  of  the 

1  It  is  by  no  means  improbable  that,  as  the  great 
prophets,  seers,  sorcerers,  or  wizards  —  call  them  what 
you  please  —  of  all  peoples  and  times  have  claimed, 
there  was  in  the  beginning  of  the  world  a  far  closer 
connection  between  this  earth  and  the  invisible  worlds, 
than  now  is  provable.  In  all  sacred  literatures,  whether 
Christian,  Jewish,  or  Pagan, — so  called  by  us  whose 
pride  is  equalled  only  by  our  ignorance  of  primal  things, 
—  this  claim  is  boldly  made,  and  miracle-working,  or 
the  doing  of  things  outside  the  regular  course  or  order 
of  nature,  is  made,  in  them  all,  the  very  basis  of  the 


UNGAVA.  8l 

world  and  all  its  power  on  dead  and  living, 
tell  me,  thou  who  taught  me  mystery  and 
armed  my  hand  with  Rod  of  power  and  to  my 
lips  gave  incantations  that  out  of  ashes  of 
old  urns  and  dust  of  ancient  graves  can  call 
forth  those  who  once  with  life  did  warm  the 
mouldered  clay,  and  from  the  bosom  of  the 

structure  around  which  they,  as  the  verbal  expression, 
have  grown.  It  is  evident  to  all  scholars  that  back  of 
what  is  known  as  modern  civilization  were  other  and 
more  perfect  ones,  whose  very  ruins  are  a  marvel  to 
us  all.  It  would  seem  that  as  we  are  only  mere  copyists 
in  architecture,  so  we  are  only  borrowers  from  the  past 
of  all  that  is  really  valuable  in  our  faiths  and  moral 
code.  No  one  with  a  heart  can  but  lament  that  there 
is  to-day  no  connection,  whatever,  in  the  form  of  com- 
munication, between  those  who  live  on  the  earth  and 
our  loved  ones  who  live  beyond  it.  The  great  loss 
that  has  fallen  on  man  is  this  entire  loss  of  the  old-time 
connection  with  the  invisible  world. 


82  UNGAVA. 

living  summon  the  soul  articulate,  and  to  my 
eyes  didst  give  the  sight  which  sees  through 
space  and  graves :  tell  me,  if  in  the  universe 
there  moves  a  body  or  a  soul  that,  coming 
out  of  living-land  or  dead-land,  can  stand 
within  arm's  reach  of  me  and  not  be  seen  ? " 
So  cried  she  standing  in  her  fright  before 
him. 

Then  he  in  answer : 

"  Ungava,  daughter,  last  of  my  race,  born 
unto  dubious  doom,  to  whom  I  have  revealed 
the  mysteries  of  life  and  death,  and  taught 
those  ancient  arts  which  give  to  lip  and  hand 
an  awful  power,  and  to  thine  eyes  the  sight 
that  looketh,  seeing,  into  graves  and  far  be- 
yond ;  what  has  disturbed  thy  soul  ?  What 
power  has  baffled  ?  Tell  me  plainly  all,  that  I 
may  plainly  answer." 


UNGA  VA.  83 

Then  she  in  haste,  awe- stricken,  made 
reply  : 

"  The  Trapper  slept.  I  am  a  woman  and 
I  love  him.  The  threads  of  fate  spun  at  my 
birth  are  tangled  with  his  own.  If  he  shall 
love  me,  happy  will  my  life  go  on  and  happy 
will  it  end.  I  then  shall  be  as  mortal  woman 
having  lived  and  loved.  My  children  will  come 
after  and  our  race  be  endless.  If  not,  I  do 
lose  all  that  earth  holds  for  a  woman,  and  I 
die  unmated,  and  in  loneliness  I  shall  live  on 
forever.  The  rill  with  soothing  murmurs  fell. 
I  sang  him  soothing  song.  He  slept.  Above 
him  sifted  I  the  dust  which  brings  oblivion  to 
mortal  sense.  Then  from  his  breast  I  sum- 
moned forth  his  soul  and  questioned  it  if  it 
might  tell  me,  if  my  destiny  were  joy  or  woe. 
His  soul  obeyed  me  and  made  answer  as  I 


84  UNGA  VA. 

asked.  I  went.  He  woke.  I  came  again. 
He  was  disturbed  in  soul.  My  spell  was 
almost  broken  by  some  other  spell.  Some 
other  power,  most  potent,  had  almost,  by  a 
dream,  betrayed  me.  I  was  amazed,  but 
passed  it  lightly  off.  In  vain,  for,  in  the 
dust  where  I  had  stood  he  pointed  to  my 
footprints,  and  did  say,  '  There  didst  thou  or 
thy  spirit  stand  as  I  lay  slumbering.'  Then 
to  another  footprint  plainly  pressed  into  the 
yielding  fur  of  the  white  skin  on  which  his 
head  was  laid,  he  pointed,  and  exclaimed, 
'  Here,  with  arms  outstretched  above  my 
head  to  shield  or  save,  did  my  own  Atla 
stand.' 

"  Sire  of  my  sire,  great  Seer  and  Prophet, 
who  is  this  Atla  ?  What  spirit  is  there  in  the 
universe  more  strong  than  I,  when  standing, 


UNGA  VA.  85 

Rod  in  hand,  in  incantation  ?  Tell  me,  by 
Ring  and  Rod,  if  one  there  is  in  living-land 
or  dead-land  that  can  stand  within  arm's  reach 
of  me  at  such  a  moment,  seeing,  and  remain 
unseen  by  me  ?  " 

Long  sat  he  without  speech.  The  Rod 
moved  in  his  hand  and  from  the  Ring  there 
blazed  a  flash  of  conscious  flame.  His  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  her  startled  face.  Slowly 
and  soundless  moved  his  lips.  At  last  he 
murmured,  as  murmuring  to  his  soul  : 

"Atla?      Ada?      Atla-ntis !  '      Is,   then,   the 

1  This  refers  to  the  belief  of  many  scholars  and  those 
who  have  thoughtfully,  with  learned  minds,  examined  the 
subject  first  broached  by  Plato,  that  in  the  Atlantic  Ocean, 
stretching  westward  from  the  coast  of  Africa,  was  a  great 
continent-island  called  Atlantis,  from  which  the  Atlantic 
Ocean  derived  its  name,  and  that  in  this  island  the 
human  race  began  its  career. 


86  UNGA  VA. 

old  race  gone  from  earth  they  loved  and 
ruled,  forever?  Is  that  first  tree  of  knowl- 
edge stripped  to  its  last  sweet  leaf?  It  must 
be  so.  How  did  it  read  ?  Alas  !  How  many 
years  and  graves  have  sifted  down  their  smoth- 
ering dust  upon  that  sentence  since  'twas  said. 
Can  I  recall  it?  Aye,  now  it  comes.  '  The 
last  and  best  shall  bear  the  name  of  Mother- 
land' Atla,  the  last  of  that  great  queenly 
line,  is  dead,  and  with  her  died  her  race.  Un- 
gava  lives,  and  with  her  lives  her  race,  —  per- 
haps. Now  see  I  all.  Now  read  I  well  the 
riddle.  'Love  cuts  all  knots ,  and  love  may 
out  of  fate  deliver'  If  he  may  love  her?" 
Then  to  Ungava  plainly  did  he  say  : 
"  Ungava,  daughter,  listen.  I  now  will  tell 
you  gravest  things.  We  must  take  deepest 
council.  In  the  beginning  two  races  were  on 


UNGAVA.  87 

earth,  the  earth-born  and  the  visitant.  In 
union  were  they  joined  and  from  the  union 
two  other  races  sprang.  Ours  was  not  great- 
est. The  other  greater  was.  It  held  the  cra- 
dle of  the  world,  and  hence,  prolific,  sent  its 
children  toward  the  setting  sun  and  south- 
ward. Our  race  the  other  was,  and  we  came 
northward,  which  then  was  Summer- Land. 
Thus  separate,  divided,  each  of  the  two  held 
to  its  own  development  in  power  and  rank. 
Ours  was  the  lesser,  always.  They  built  on 
reason  and  present  things.  We  on  the  future 
world,  credulous  and  superstitious  ever.  This 
Atla  is  the  last  and  greatest  of  that  race  and 
its  old  queenly  line,  as  thou  art  last  of  that 
religious  Caste  with  us,  that  holdeth  Rod  and 
Ring  of  power.  By  some  strange  chance  she 
must  have  met  this  Trapper,  and  have  loved. 


88  UNGAVA. 

From  distance  greater  than  the  farthest  star 
from  earth  a  thousand  times,  as  you  did  sum- 
mon forth  his  soul  to  claim  it,  she,  hastening 
hither,  flew.  I  heard  her  come  and  go,  invis- 
ible to  eyes  to  which  all  graves  are  only  mir- 
rors. This  Rod  did  lift  and  bow  obedient 
as  she  passed,  and  on  my  trembling  hand 
the  conscious  Ring  flashed  startled  recogni- 
tion. She,  she  it  was  who  stood  above  the 
Trapper's  head,  unseen  of  you.  Greater  than 
we,  she  is.  Her  power  is  stronger.  Ungava, 
Atla  is  your  rival,  and  she  knows  all ! " 

Then  stood  she  white  in  dumb  amaze  at 
what  her  ears  had  heard.  Atla  her  rival,  and 
Atla  had  seen  all !  Who  was  this  Atla  ? 
Where  was  she  and  where  was  she  not  ? 
Perhaps  e'en  now  her  mighty  orbs  were  on 
her  !  What  might  she  do  ? 


UNGA  VA.  89 

Then  to  her,  standing-  thus  all  white  with 
fear,  her  grandsire  came.  He  took  her  hand 
and  gravely  said  : 

"  My  daughter,  child  of  a  race  that  dieth 
with  thee  if  thou  diest  without  issue,  on  yon- 
der couch  of  skins  I  pray  thee  seek  some 
needed  rest.  Thou  art  o'er-taxed.  This  mat- 
ter leave  to  me.  It  needs  grave  thought  and 
deepest  wisdom,  lest  by  blunder  we  lose  all. 
Sleep  thou  in  peace.  I  will  the  Trapper  sum- 
mon here  and  tell  him  much  of  ancient  times 
and  things.  I  will  observe  his  soul,  and  at 
the  last  lead  up  to  thee.  Such  man  as  he 
was  never  on  this  earth,  if,  seeing  thee  as  he 
shall  see,  knowing  thee  as  he  shall  know,  his 
soul  shall  not  in  love  or  pity  give  itself  to 
thee.  So  on  this  couch  convenient  let  now 
thy  frame  repose.  Close  eyes ;  yield  mind 


90  UNGA  VA. 

and  thought  to  me.  While  with  entreating 
and  persuasive  gesture  I  from  thy  soul  draw 
trouble  and  call  sweet  slumber  down.  So, 
gently  does  she  pass  from  ills  that  are  and 
thoughts  of  ills  to  be  into  that  realm  that 
lies  beyond  the  line  of  mortal  sense  and 
pain.  I  would  that  when  she  wakes  she 
might  awake  into  a  world  of  equal  peace." 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  CONJURER'S   ACCOUNT  OF  THE   GENESIS  '  OF 
THE  WORLD. 

TERE  have  I  brought  you,  Trapper,  that, 

in  answer  to  your  questioning,  I  might 

narrate  the  Genesis  of  the  world,  and  tell  you 

of  the  races  which  earliest  dwelt  on  earth  ;   of 

that   first   innocence   which    represented    God, 

1  Whatever  the  reader  .may  think  of  this  as  an  accu- 
rate history  of  the  beginning  of  the  world  and  the  "  Fall 
of  Man,''  it  can  doubtless  be  regarded  as  accurate  as,  and 
certainly  more  philosophic  than,  the  one  to  which  Milton 
stands  sponsor  in  his  "  Paradise  Lost ;  "  that  magnificent 
fiction  of  imagination,  which  has  imposed  a  theology  upon 
the  Christian  world  which  for  the  most  part  is  diametri- 
cally opposed  to  good  sense  and  sound  Scripture  both. 


92  UNGA  VA. 

and  how  it  fell ;  of  arts  and  powers  once  known, 
now  lost  to  men,  and  of  that  primal  truth 
which  underlies  religions,  superstitions,  creeds, 
and  is  to  them  what  vital  element  is  to  human 
blood.  Here  sit  thou  down,  and,  while  Un- 
gava  sleeps,  I  will  rehearse  the  tale  of  olden 
times,  and  you  shall  know  the  lore  of  that 
old  world  which  is  forever  gone  and  all  the 
glory  of  that  race  which  once  shone  on  the 
heads  of  millions,  but  which,  like  candle  burnt 
to  socket,  now  flickers  feebly  in  two  feeble 
lives.  Never  before,  beyond  the  limits  of  our 
Caste  did  this  old  lore  go  forth  ;  but  you  shall 
know  the  truth  as  it  has  come  from  mouth  to 
mouth  in  sacred  speech  and  accurate,  from 
those  who  saw  and  knew  whereof  they  told. 
I  tell  you,  hoping  it  may  live  when  she  and 
I  are  numbered  with  the  stars. 


UNO  A  VA.  93 

"  This,  then,  was  in  the  beginning,  and  this 
the  cause  and  order  of  that  first  development 
whose  ruined  glory  is  to-day  a  marvel. 

"  No  art  or  science,  Trapper,  worth  the  name 
was  ever  born  on  earth.  All  have  come  down 
from  races  throned  amid  the  spheres,  who, 
through  unnumbered  ages,  had  clomb  slowly 
up  the  slopes  of  fine  intelligence,  and  terraced 
Heaven  with  knowledge.  When  these  on 
wing  inquisitive  in  downward  flight  came  to 
the  earth,  with  them  they  brought  all  knowl- 
edge and  all  grace,  and  planted  here  the 
germs  of  needed  progress.  By  these  the 
earth  in  infancy  was  taught.  Knowledge  was 
borrowed  from  the  skies.  The  seeds  of 
every  precious  growth  were  sown  widecast 
from  hands  whose  skill  eternity  had  taught. 
Through  these  superior  ones  the  earth  did 


94  UNGA  VA. 

gain  and  lose  all  worth  the  having.  From 
them  it  gained  the  skill  to  build,  to  fashion, 
and  to  mould  ;  and  traces  of  their  mighty 
work  are  found  to-day  in  ruins  wide  as  acres, 
in  forms  that  stand  gigantic  in  the  forests  of 
the  East,  in  jungles  which  once  were  gardens 
of  the  gods,  in  mountains  disrupted  by  volcanic 
shocks,  but  which,  smooth-sloped  and  joined 
by  intervals  of  verdure,  once  gave  summer 
residence  to  those  who  longed  to  breathe  the 
cooler  airs  from  snowy  summits  blown,  that 
are  a  wonder.  Men  stand  and  gaze  at  them 
astounded,  not  knowing  what  hand  or  skill 
could  shape  and  hew  such  mighty  sculptures. 
From  them,  too,  came  the  knowledge  of  the 
skies.  They  were  the  Stars  of  Morning  who 
sang  the  heavens  into  place  and  named  to 
human  ears  the  constellations.  They  fixed 


UA'GA  VA.  95 

the  orbit  of  the  earth  ;  called  time  from  out 
eternity  by  measurement  of  day  and  night,  of 
months  and  years ;  and  zoned  the  earth  by 
temperatures.  They  did  unfold  the  mystery 
of  the  magnet  circle  around  which  sweeps  the 
restless  steel,  and  so  gave  courage  unto  men 
to  push  their  ships  beyond  the  sight  of  land, 
sail  far  and  wide  through  pathless  oceans, 
bravely  trusting  life  and  gold  to  a  sliver  of 
thin  metal,  thus  giving  birth  to  commerce 
which  stands  parent  to  the  brotherhood  of 
man.  From  them,  too,  came  the  arts  of  heal- 
ing ;  the  use  of  poisons,  which,  left  untouched 
till  time  of  need,  are  antidotes  to  death  ;  the 
knowledge  of  all  herbs  medicinal,  which  give 
to  every  .pain  and  ache  its  healing  leaf;  of 
oils,  which,  penetrating  joint  and  bone,  drive 
out  the  lurking  pain,  or,  spread  as  ointment 


96  UXGA  VA. 

on  the  skin,  pink  it  with  health  and  smooth 
all  wrinkles  out,  —  those  scars  of  smiting  for- 
tune ;  of  perfumes,  how  distilled,  how  min- 
gled, how  preserved,  that  out  of  many  sweets 
perfected  sweets  may  come,  that  mortals  might 
be  charmed  from  joys  of  grosser  to  those  of 
finer  senses.  From  them,  moreover,  knowl- 
edge came  of  metals,  where  found,  how  worked 
and  manufactured  into  forms  of  use  and  orna- 
ment according  to  the  laws  of  high  utility  and 
taste.  They  taught  the  laws  of  architecture 
unto  men  ;  the  principle  of  the  arch,  —  that 
key  of  utmost  strength  ;  the  column,  plain  or 
fluted,  —  that  symbol  of  high  stateliness  ;  the 
crowning  capital  which  flowers  the  stony  stalk 
with  airy  beauty ;  and  how  tall  tower  and  min- 
aret and  steeple  and  the  rounded  dome  should 
shape  the  massive  structure  underneath  into 


UNGAVA.  97 

proportions  rhythmic.  The  cereals  that  give 
food  to  man  were  from  the  wild  abundance 
of  material  chosen  and  by  careful  culture  prop- 
agated unto  perfection.  Last  of  all,  they  taught 
them  written  language,  symbolic  and  phonetic 
both.  First  in  pictures,1  that  their  childish 
eyes  might  be  enticed  to  learn  and  easily  catch 
sense  from  shade  of  color  and  from  shape. 
Then  in  arbitrary  forms  which  were  for  scholars, 
ranges  of  high  thought  and  universal  traffic 
in  ideas  answering  universal  needs ;  that  all 
the  race,  in  all  its  tribes  and  families,  in  every 
zone  remote  and  clime  distinct,  might  by  one 
universal  avenue  come  at  last,  as  after  tri- 

1  Probably  the  oldest  language  or  method  of  commu- 
nicating thought  was  that  of  signs,  or  pantomimic,  next 
to  which,  beyond  doubt,  stands  the  "  Picture  Language," 
which  we  find  carried  to  perfection  in  the  hieroglyphics 
of  Egypt. 


98  UNGA  VA. 

umph,  marching  into  apprehended  brother- 
hood. In  all  these  ages  of  celestial  teaching, 
Trapper,  the  future  was  not  hidden  from  the 
present  nor  dead  from  living.  They  did  come 
at  call  and  ghostly  terrors  were  not  known. 
The  earth-born  died  ;  but  not  as  those  whose 
lives  have  ended,  but  have  just  begun.  The 
heavenly  ones  died  not  until  within  immortal 
veins  death  entered,  as  I  will  tell,  by  wrong, 
unfit  admixtures  of  the  lower  with  higher 
blood.  Of  this  I  will  now  speak. 

"Trapper,  religions  change.  They  flood  and 
ebb  like  tides.  The  old  die  out  and  new  ones 
come.  They  are  deciduous.  A  thousand 
years,  —  which  in  the  cycle  of  existent  things 
are  only  as  are  years  to  centuries,  —  their 
leaves,  nutritious,  medical,  fall  for  the  healing 
of  the  nations,  then  they  leafless,  sapless 


UNGA  VA.  99 

stand,  and  are  from  habit  worshipped  for 
other  thousand  years,  though  out  of  them  all 
power  for  good  is  gone,  and  the  once  vital 
growth  for  human  need  stands,  cold  and 
bare,  a  rigid  system  of  devout  formality.  The 
Deity  changes  also  with  the  changes  of  the 
human  mind,  growing  and  shrinking  as  it 
grows  and  shrinks  in  knowledge.  Men  of 
different  climes  and  ages  give  Him  different 
names  and  nature.  Now  He  is  this,  now  that. 
According  as  they  know  or  dream  or  feel,  so 
is  He.  Man  makes  his  Deity,  and  worships 
the  pictured  idol  of  his  mind  whether  false 
or  true,  and,  worshipping,  grows  into  likeness 
of  his  idol  whether  good  or  bad. 

"  But,  Trapper,  listen  and  remember  what  I 
say ;  for  it  is  true.  Back  of  all  these  changes 
and  these  picturings  of  men,  good,  bad,  or  both 


100  UNO  A  V A. 

or  neither,  there  stands  forever  the  Eternal 
Power  who  made  and  makes  all  things  by 
spoken  word  immediate  or  slow  evolving  law, 
as  seemeth  to  Him  good  and  answereth  His 
own  purpose  best.  The  /  Am  of  the  Jew, 
the  Zeus  of  Greece,  the  Jove  of  Rome,  the 
Sacred  Fire  of  Persia,  the  Odin  of  the  North, 
the  Manitou  of  Red  Man,  the  God  of  Chris- 
tian is  evermore  the  same;  the  One  Great 
Deity,  the  Cause,  Creator,  Ruler,  Preserver 
of  universal  man,  animals  and  things.  We 
know  He  is  our  Father.  That  is  all  we  know. 
The  propagating  principle  strikes  its  deep 
root  into  His  own  white  vitalness,  and  from 
it  draws  unintermittent  sap  and  is  forever 
active.  Beyond  this  simple  fact,  self-evident, 
we  nothing  know.  All  else  is  born  of  fancy, 
wish  or  ignorance,  or  that  infernal  pride  and 


UNGAVA.  10 1 

cruelty  of  scheming,  grasping  priestcraft,  which 
manufactures  attributes  of  terror,  digging  hells 
and  walling  heavens  in,  that  it  may  hold  the 
keys  of  them  and  dominate,  through  fear, 
the  lives  of  women  and  the  souls  of  men. 
"  This  world  was  made  by  Him,  not  as  a 
special  act,  to  loom  forever,  vast  and  high, 
in  the  blue  sky  of  universal  sight ;  nor  as  a 
theatre  on  whose  eye-compelling  stage  great 
tragedy  is  played  that  He  might  make  exhibit 
of  His  Love  and  Power :  for  He  is  always 
making  worlds  innumerable  and  filling  them 
with  races,  as  He,  in  summer,  fills  meadow- 
land  with  flowers.  For  when  He  made,  He 
made  it  as  a  residence  and  home  for  earth- 
born  and  for  spirits  both,  who,  for  ages  num- 
berless, uncalendared,  had  grown  in  grace  and 
knowledge  of  finest  arts  and  holy  things ; 


102  UNGAVA. 

and  these  to  earth  came  down  to  give  the 
new  earth  knowledge  and  to  teach  the  lowly 
ones  of  clay  the  science  of  pure  life  and  lay 
in  law  and  helpful  order  broad  and  deep  the 
strong  foundations  of  development,  that  they 
in  time  might  grow  to  their  estate  and  so 
have  freedom  of  the  Universe.  Thus  was  it, 
Trapper,  and  no  other  way,  as  I  and  other 
like  me  have  had  from  record,  memory-kept, 
handed  down  to  us  from  that  first  day  when 
they,  the  Stars  of  Morning,  sang  welcome  to 
the  new-made  world  and  songs  of  praise  to 
Him,  the  Maker. 

"  So  was  it  at  the  first.  The  earth  was  free 
to  all,  and  heavenly  ones  came  down  as  knowl- 
edge comes  to  ignorance,  to  teach  it  and  as- 
sist. These  were  the  White  Ones  of  the  world, 
the  mighty  Sons  of  God,  and  were,  by  right 


UNGAVA.  103 

of  knowledge  and  of  power,  the  rulers  of  the 
earth.  They  taught  it  science,  gave  it  laws, 
transmitted  hither  arts  of  building  and  of  heal- 
ing, tested  the  qualities  of  earthly  things,  — 
its  minerals,  ores  and  precious  gems,  —  divided 
base  from  pure,  measured  the  orbit  of  the 
earth,  its  axis  calculated  and  fixed  its  place 
among  the  constellations  which  rule  its  mo- 
tion, and  gave  them  names  familiar  to  the 
ears  of  lower  earth-born  men.1  These  mighty 

1  It  is  plain  that  in  early  ages  mankind  were  divided 
into  Totemic  sects  or  families  bearing  animal  names. 
From  this  arose  the  fables  of  animals  having  human 
speech.  When  \ve  read  in  some  old  author  that  the  Fox 
talked  with  the  Crow  or  the  Wolf  to  the  Sheep,  it  simply 
means  that  a  man  of  the  Fox  Totem  or  Tribe  talked 
with  a  man  of  the  Crow  Tribe,  or  one  of  the  Wolf  fam- 
ily with  one  who  bore  the  Sheep  as  his  Totem  or  family 
name.  It  would  be  natural,  as  Astronomical  knowledge 
grew  and  stellar  discoveries  were  made,  that  the  forming 


104  UNGAVA. 

ones,  these  teachers  from  the  skies,  these  wise 
and  holy  beings  were  the  gods  of  earth,  and 
so  they  stand  to-day  in  all  the  ancient  litera- 
tures,—  grotesque,  weird,  meaningless,  because 
their  cause,  their  order  and  their  old  signifi- 
cance are  lost  and  scattered,  crudely  woven 
into  later  superstitions;  —  mere  shreds  and 
patches  of  a  glorious  fabric  that  once  was 
perfect  whole.1 

constellations  should  receive  these  Totemic  names,  in 
compliment,  perhaps,  to  the  Tribes  or  Nations  that  bore 
them.  It  is  as  if  astronomy  were  now  forming  the  con- 
stellations and  grouping  the  starry  systems  and  should 
call  one  the  Constellation  of  England,  and  another  of 
Russia,  instead  of  Saturn  or  Orion. 

1  The  Mythologies  of  Greece  and  Rome  are  unques- 
tionably based  on  great  facts  of  personal  existences  and 
actual  history  that  belong  to  remotely  early  ages.  Nep- 
tune, Jove,  Hercules,  Mars,  Vulcan,  these  were  all  once 
men,  kings,  rulers,  noted  benefactors  of  the  human  race 


UNGAVA.  105 

"  Now  hearken.  When  first  the  Sons  of 
God,  the  gifted  ones  of  Heaven,  came  visi- 
tant to  earth,  —  which  was  not  till  the  slow 
evolving  movement  of  creation  had,  through 
ages  long,  circled  its  full  sphere,  and  earth 
and  all  its  creatures  perfect  stood,  —  they 
found  on  earth  a  race  of  beings  strangely 
born.  They  had  come  upward  by  evolving ' 

and  not  mere  creations  of  the  fancy  of  Grecian  and 
Roman  poets.  They  are  the  shades  or  ghosts  of  once 
living,  substantial  persons,  whose  natural  forms  are  lost 
to  the  historic  eye  in  the  dim  distances  of  unrecorded 
times  and  so  are  therefore  seen  in  grotesque  misshapen- 
ness. 

1  This  old  Nasquapee  Conjurer  or  Prophet  had  evi- 
dently a  pretty  correct  conception  of  Darwin's  system 
or  idea  of  evolution.  It  might  be  interesting  to  inquire 
whence  he  derived  his  knowledge  so  closely  in  accord- 
ance with  advanced  modern  thought  on  the  development 
of  the  human  species. 


106  UNGAVA. 

growth  and  were  of  many  orders.  Each  bore 
in  mind  or  mood,  in  body  sturdy  or  light,  a 
dim  resemblance  to  his  or  her  original.  In 
each,  by  motion,  look,  by  style  of  voice  or 
eye,  by  color,  management  of  form  or  char- 
acteristic passion,  was  hint  of  prototypes  in 
distance  hidden. 

"  Some  were  as  tigers,  fiercely  strong  and 
beautiful  with  wild  and  savage  beauty,  soften- 
ing into  purring  moods  at  times,  and  sweet 
maternal  tendernesses.  Some  were  lithe  and 
subtle  as  the  snake  when,  sinuous  and  glossy 
with  new  skin,  he  charms  the  innocent  bird  to 
his  keen  fangs.  Some  had  the  haughty  lone- 
liness of  the  snow-headed  eagle,  and  his  eye 
to  gaze  undazzled  at  the  sun,  when,  soar- 
ing high  o'er  cloud  and  shade  through  crys- 
tal air  with  steady  wing  in  level  flight,  he 


UNGAVA.  107 

grazes  its  hot  rim  and  glances,  with  shrill 
scream  of  challenge,  onward  ;  —  that  scream 
which  hunters  trailing  on  in  silence  hear 
come  hissing,  tearing  downward  like  a  burn- 
ing arrow,  and  wonder  what  the  awful  sound 
may  be  and  whence  it  came.  Swift  and  strong 
to  swoop  and  strike  were  they,  and  death  flew 
with  their  shadow.  Nor  lacked  these  earth- 
born  races  skill  to  make  and  build,  for  they 
were  cunning  with  the  cunning  of  the  bee  and 
ant  and  those  winged  architects  which  weave 
their  homes  from  textile  hair,  from  gossamer 
floss  or  floating  fibres,  and  hang  them  pen- 
dent by  shrewd  fastening  from  the  swaying 
bough.  But  they  were  fickle,  fierce  or  igno- 
rantly  weak,  and  had  no  common  language 
and  lacked  the  mind  to  organize  and  push 
on  and  up  to  final  finish  what  they  set  hand 


108  •  UNGAVA. 

to.  So  nothing  of  their  doing  was  carried 
to  perfection,  or  broadly  based  to  stand  the 
wear  of  time  and  shocks  of  change.  Hence 
all  they  did  fell  down  in  ruin  ere  'twas  done, 
and  all  their  progress  was  in  circles  mov- 
ing round  and  round  in  endless  imperfec- 
tion. 

"  But  of  their  women,  there  were  some 
whose  loveliness  was  hued  and  odored  like 
the  earth,  their  mother,  when  amorous  warmth 
sweetens  her  swelling  breasts  with  bloom  and 
spice ;  and  pungent  odors  fill  the  nose  with 
pleasure  and  with  longing  for  more  and  deeper 
inhalations.  Dark  were  these  women,  but  glo- 
rious as  the  night  when  through  its  spaces  of 
warm  dusk  the  stars  are  powdered  thick  and 
all  its  swarth  is  flushed  with  latent  light  and 
heat.  Some  were  superbly  calm, —  their  move- 


UNGAVA.  109 

ments  as  the  swan's,  slow,  stately,  proud,  re- 
poseful as  still  pools  vine-bordered,  starred 
with  lilies,  —  on  whose  bosoms,  warm  and 
sweet,  a  man  might  sleep  forever  nor  wish 
to  wake.  Blooded  were  some  like  fire,  veined 
with  passions  swarth  as  hot  as  torrid  heat  in 
jungles,  electric  as  the  night  when  all  the 
gloom  sweats  odors  which  o'ercome  the 
senses,  and  in  it,  latent,  lurks  the  unkin- 
dled  lightning.  In  some  were  strange  mag- 
netic powers,  known  or  unknown  to  them, 
and  he  on  whom,  when  place  and  time  and 
mood  were  apt,  they  slowly  fixed  their  orbed 
eyes,  half-closed,  voluptuous,  lost  higher  wit 
and  virtue  and  every  sense  save  sweet  recep- 
tiveness,  and  yielding,  overcome,  did  gently 
sink  into  their  gracefully  lifted  arms  as  into 
sweetest  heaven.  Some  won  by  gentleness 


HO  UNGAVA. 

and  goodness,  being  of  mild  natures,  disposi- 
tions sweet,  modest  and  shy  as  antelopes  or 
the  gazelle,  and  lovely  as  untutored  grace 
might  be  and  that  sweet  modesty  which,  star- 
tled at  first  thoughts  of  love,  shrinks  timid 
from  the  sight  of  its  own  loveliness.  These 
women  of  the  Earth,  novel  to  Heaven's  sight, 
lifted  eyes  of  homage  to  the  Sons  of  God, 
wise,  strong  and  holding  kingly  rank,  and  in 
the  splendor  of  their  beauty  lay  at  their  feet 
in  humble  worship,  graceful,  solicitous,  entic- 
ing. Nor  did  they  fail  in  their  wild,  natural 
wooing.  For  they  were  honest  in  it,  being 
all  enthralled  with  glorious  face  and  form  and 
spectacle  of  rank,  and,  more  than  all,  their 
loveliness  was  great.  So  were  the  White 
Ones  of  the  world,  pure-blooded,  deathless 
Sons  of  God,  drawn  downward  to  the  lower 


UA'GA  VA.  Ill 

type  in  amorous  admiration,  and  took  of  them 
wives  as  many  as  they  chose.1 

"So  ruin  came  to  the  first  world  and  order. 
The  pure  crossed  with  the  impure  lost  their 
purity  for  aye.  The  mountain  streams  flowing 
crystal  from  the  fount  of  God,  fell  into  valley 
pools  and  were  forever  roiled.  The  temper  of 
the  skies,  serene  and  sweet,  was  roughened 
and  made  sour.  The  bright  intelligence  of 
Heaven,  quick  to  invent,  to  see,  to  analyze, 
fashion  and  construct,  was  clouded ;  the  even 
disposition  thrown  from  its  poise,  the  just 
judgment  warped,  the  holy,  vital  force  to  will 
and  do,  running  clear  from  the  Font  of  Life, 
grew  thick  with  earthly  mixtures.  All  cer- 

1  Genesis  vi.  2. — The  Sons  of  God  saw  the  daughters 
of  men,  earth-born,  that  they  were  fair.  And  they  took 
them  wives  of  all  which  they  chose. 


I  I  2  UXGA  VA. 

tainty  of  holy  birth  was  lost.  The  propa- 
gating instinct,  drawn  from  God,  was  turned 
against  Him,  for  mongrelism,1  —  that  worst 
and  deadliest  sin,  corrupting  all,  —  was  lifted 
on  to  thrones  that  ruled  the  world,  and,  with 
power  perverted  ever  after,  helped  to  mar  it. 
"So  fell  the  race  of  God.  So  virtue  went 
forever  from  the  earth,  and  sin  came  in.  The 

.l  The  practice  of  "  out  crossing "  as  it  is  called  by 
breeders  was,  evidently,  not  favored  by  the  Divine  Pa- 
rent of  the  human  race  as  he  everywhere  set  law  and 
custom  against  it.  There  is  not  a  race  that  has  ever 
gained,  symmetrically,  by  marrying  beyond  its  own  blood. 
The  pure-blooded,  inbred  races  are  those  who  reached  and 
maintained  a  high  level  of  excellence.  The  Jews,  Egyp- 
tians, Greeks,  Romans,  Irish,  might  all  be  quoted  in 
support  of  this  position.  The  idea  that  a  great,  sym- 
metrically formed  race  can  ever  be  built  up  in  this  Con- 
tinent on  the  basis  of  nationalized  mongrelism  is  scouted 
by  all  history.  God  and  history  are  alike  against  it. 


UNGAVA.  113 

leaders  of  the  blind  were  blinded,  and  both 
fell  down  together  into  deepest  ditch.  As 
entered  mortal  mixtures  into  deathless  veins, 
death  entered,  not  as  new  birth  from  lower 
unto  higher  at  full-time  pregnancy,  but  as 
doom,  and  with  each  added  birth  there  came 
new  risk  and  ruin  to  mankind.  Like  poison- 
ous vapor  out  of  noxious  pools,  rising  cold 
and  dank,  death  slowly  up  the  shining  slopes 
of  tainted  generations  rose,  until  in  darkness 
it  enveloped  all  from  basest  hut  to  noblest 
throne.  And  thus  with  sin  against  pure  blood 
came  death  into  the  world. 

"Thus  the  first  glory  of  the  world  went  down 
in  ruin.  The  tree  of  knowledge,  whose  fruit 
your  Scriptures  say  the  woman  ate,  —  a  fable 
growing  out  of  fact,  a  withered  leaf  of  old- 
time  knowledge,  fragrant  still,  garnered  by 


114  UNGAVA. 

poet  out  of  Jewish  lore,  garnered  by  Jew  in 
turn  from  literatures  that  had  it  full  in  prose 
and  verse  a  thousand  and  ten  thousand  years 
before  the  day  that  Abraham  or  even  Job 
drew  breath,  —  was  marriage  with  the  Gods, 
from  which,  —  as  was  in  nature  sure  to  be,— 
came  power  to  hand  and  knowledge  into  heart 
and  head,  which  they,  earth-born,  untaught, 
undisciplined,  weak  or  wicked,  knew  not  how 
to  use  aright,  or,  knowing,  because  of  evil  in 
them,  perverted  it  to  evil  use.  The  sin  was 
not  on  woman,  but  on  him,  who,  for  his  wan- 
ton pleasure,  lifted  her  to  marriage  bed  beyond 
her  dignity,  and  to  familiar  sight  of  powers 
and  forces,  agencies  and  agents,  that  were 
beyond  her  ken  or  skill  to  understand  or  use 
aright.  She  was  forbid  to  taste  the  fruit  of 
that  forbidden  tree  as  childish  ignorance,  in- 


UNGAVA.  115 

quisitive,  is  commanded  not  to  touch  the  fire 
that  burns.  But  more  was  he  a  hundred 
times  forbid  who  lifted  her  unto  its  branches 
sweet  with  flower  and  odorous  leaf,  and  put 
the  luscious  fruit  into  her  longing  mouth. 
The  woman  erred  unconscious,  striving  to 
reach  and  have  what  to  her  senses  was 
sweeter  than  the  breath  of  life  to  nostril,  ac- 
cording to  the  longing  of  her  ambitious, 
ardent  nature.  But  the  man  she  tempted,  or 
was  tempted  by,  who  did  lift  her  up,  from 
love  or  lust,  unto  the  level  of  forbidden  bed 
and  all  the  life  and  knowledge  which,  through 
wifehood,  motherhood  and  daily  intercourse, 
it  gave,  did  sin  against  the  dignity  of  his 
high  nature  and  a  law  which  in  his  clear  in- 
telligence blazed  warningly  as  blazes  beacon 
fixed  above  the  rocks  of  wreck  and  death. 


T 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   WHITE    GOD    OF    MISTASSINNI. 

HUS  in    the  beginning  gained  the  earth 
whatever  it  has  had  of  glory.     It  gained. 


It  lost.  For  of  the  mingling  of  the  higher 
with  the  lower,  there  came,  not  all  at  once 
but  gradually,  a  lapse  and  weakening  of  that 
vital  force  which  had  come  down  from  heaven ; 
a  clouding  of  that  bright  intelligence  which 
only  cycles  of  eternity  can  give  the  seeking 
mind ;  a  lowering  of  the  tone  and  level  of 
ambition,  which  erst  sought  only  noble  ends  ; 
and,  worst  of  all,  a  lapse  in  holiness.  The 
pure  imagination  was  befouled,  a  grossness 
came  to  appetite,  the  moral  sense  was  blunted 

116 


UNGAVA. 

—  that  sentinel  of  God,  which,  while  it  stood 
instinct  with  heavenly  life,  kept  perfect  guard 
above  sweet  innocence  and  trustful  virtue. 

"  So  passed  the  ages,  and  the  earth  grew 
upward  in  external  glory  but  downward  into 
moral  ruin.  Then  shocks  were  felt  which 
shook  the  solid  world.  Catastrophes  were 
multiplied.  Here  Fire,  there  Water,  and  at 
some  other  point  Frost  wrought  its  work  of 
ruin.  Chaos  had  come  again.  The  Mother- 
land sank  under  sea,  and  with  it  went  the 
treasures  and  the  records  of  the  primeval 
cycle.  Here  and  there  a  colony  survived 
and  carried  down  to  later  ages  some  feeble 
fragments  of  the  glorious  wrhole  that  had 
been  shattered  into  ruins.  Only  these  sur- 
vived. The  sphered  excellence  of  high 
achievement,  perfect  in  holiness,  glorious  as  a 


I  1 8  UNO  A  VA. 

globe  illuminated,  proof  of  what  moral  rectitude 
with  mortal  power  might  do,  was  lost  forever. 
"  Then  out  of  space  there  came  a  vagrant 
world  flying  in  unguided,  lawless  flight ;  a 
world  on  fire,  —  a  funeral  pyre  of  some  old 
race,  perhaps  —  and  as  it  passed,  monstrous 
in  size,  flying  faster  by  ten  thousand  times 
than  this  small  globe  wheels  on,  nigh  to  that 
point  which  now  is  northern  pole,  the  home 
of  Arctic  cold,  which  then  was  Summer-land,1 
where  dwelt,  'mid  flowers  that  faded  not  and 
fruits  that  ripened  for  each  day  of  the  round 
year,  my  race ;  it  struck  the  earth,  and  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye  my  race  became  extinct. 

1  There  is  no  possible  way  to  explain  the  presence 
of  many  forms  of  tropic  life  found,  by  whalers  and  Arctic 
explorers,  within  the  Arctic  circle,  save  on  the  supposi- 
tion that  a  sudden  and  life-destroying  change  of  climate 
came,  in  some  prehistoric  period,  to  the  polar  region. 


UXGAVA.  119 

The  level  axis  of  the  earth  was,  by  the  dread- 
ful shock,  knocked  obliquely  up,  the  round 
of  Nature's  order  changed,  summer  and  winter 
rushed  into  alternate  place,  and  transposed 
were  the  zones.  Thus,  Trapper,  died  the  first 
two  races  of  the  earth.  The  one  sank  under 
water,  and  the  legend  of  that  flood  is  told 
in  almost  every  language  of  the  world.1  The 

1  It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  in  Egyptian  literature, 
historic  or  legendary,  there  is  not  the  least  hint  of  or 
allusion  to  the  Flood.  In  Plato's  "  Atlantis  "  the  aged 
Priest ^  of  the  Temple  at  Sais  who  entertained  Solon, 
Plato's  grandfather,  while  living  in  exile  out  of  Greece, 
accounts  for  this  fully.  He  explained  to  Solon  —  I 
quote  from  memory  —  that  the  reason  why  Egypt  had 
no  special  memory  of  the  Flood  was  because  there  had 
been  many  such  local  catastrophes  on  the  earth  since 
the  beginning,  of  which  their  records  had  knowledge, 
and  that  there  was  no  legend  about  that  special  one 
because  the  facts  of  it  were  all  fully  known  to  them. 


T  20  UNGA  VA. 

other  perished  under  shock  from  heaven 
which  crushed  them  on  the  instant.  As  falls 
the  hammer  on  the  anvil  so  death  fell  on 
them.  They  knew  not  it  was  coming  till  it 
came.  Beneath  that  blow  they  and  their 
mighty  works  were  beaten  into  dust.  The 
gravel  of  these  northern  wilds  that  mark  the 
landscape  is  granulation  of  old  palaces.  We 
are  within  the  circle  of  a  ruin  that  buried  half 
the  world  as  you  bury  bodies  under  sand.1 

"  Here  at  Ungava,  where  fruits  and  flowers 
were  then,  there  was  a  colony  of  that  old 
race  which  lived  in  Summer-land  of  the 
North.  This  fringe  of  population,  not  wholly 
pure  in  blood  but  mixed  with  other  races 

1  This  certainly  explains  that  mystery  of  the  earth  — 
the  great  geological  puzzle  —  the  Drift.  Whence  came 
it,  when  and  how? 


UNGAVA.  121 

which  they  met  as  they  pushed  southward, 
escaped,  and  so  remained  a  feeble  remnant 
of  that  primal  stock  that  once  held  all  the 
North.  Trapper,  this  is  enough.  You  know 
the  past.  I  am  of  it  and  of  that  Caste  which 
'mid  the  ancient  folk  held  Sacred  Keys  of 
knowledge  and  of  power  preserved  from  ear- 
liest days,  —  a  knowledge  that  knows  all  that 
has  been,  and  a  power  that  bridges  death 
and  brings  across  it  at  my  call  the  feet  of 
those  who  over  it,  amid  the  wailing  of  their 
friends,  did  pass  to  distant  realms.  One  thing 
alone  remains  for  me  to  tell.  It  is  a  modern 
happening,  and  gets  significance  from  what 
it  means  to  you  and  her.  Listen  now,  and 
hear. 

"  When   he   who   was   the   sire   of   the   old 
tongueless  chief  of  Mistassinni  was  but  a  boy, 


122  UNGAVA. 

he  found,  one  morn  at  sunrise,  on  the  beach 
of  that  great  inland  sea  far  westward  of  the 
lake  where  lived  his  tribe,  a  boy  of  his  own 
age.  He  lay  upon  the  sand  as  dead.  His 
face  was  white  as  snow.  His  hair  was  gold. 
Upon  his  bosom  there  was  traced  strange 
Totem,  unknown  to  all  the  tribes.  It  was 
a  double  letter  thus :  —  Pfjl^bv  —  'm  c°l°r  red 
as  blood.  He  had  come  over  sea  in  boat  not 
built  by  hands  ;  at  least,  so  seemed  it  to  the 
tribes  that  knew  no  boat  save  such  as  their 
own  hands  had  fashioned.  That  boy  revived. 
The  young  chief  fed  and  brought  him  by  his 
hand  unto  the  council  chamber  of  his  tribe, 
and  all  the  ancients  hailed  him  as  fulfilment 
of  a  prophecy  old  as  itself,  that,  '  After  many 
years,  out  of  the  West,  in  boat  not  made  with 
hands,  should  come  a  god  white-skinned  with 


UNGAVA.  123 

yellow  hair.'  Thus  came  unto  the  tribe  of 
Mistassinni  that  '  White  God,'  as  he  is  known 
through  all  the  North.  He  grew  in  stature  and 
in  grace  ;  was  fair  to  look  upon,  and  wise.  He 
learned  their  tongue  ;  his  own  was  all  unknown 
to  them.  He  married  princess  of  our  Caste. 
A  son  was  born.  That  son  am  I.  To  him  was 
born  a  son  of  other  princess,  for  our  Caste 
weds  within  its  circle  and  goes  not  beyond. 
That  son  had  child.  Enough  of  this ;  we 
will  go  back.  For  of  this  '  White  God  '  would 
I  tell,  that  you  may  "know  him.  Then  would  I 
a  solemn  question  ask. 

"In  battle  he  was  chief.  He  was  not  large 
in  stature,  but  as  the  fight  roared  on  and  hotter 
grew  he  grew  in  size  until  at  the  white  heat 
of  it  he  filled  the  field.  His  presence  was  an 
atmosphere,  which,  being  breathed,  made  those 


124  UNGAVA. 

who  breathed  it  braver,  so  that  each  lifted  arm 
in  the  long  ranks  that  saw  him  fight  struck 
downward  as  if  muscled  to  his  shoulder.  He 
flamed  the  fi^ht  as  lightning,  in  mid-ocean,  on 
some  tempestuous  night,  flames  the  black  bil- 
lows. No  fear  was  in  him.  Battle  to  his 
soul  was  as  wedding  hour  to  ardent  lover. 
Through  whirling  hatchets,  circling  axes, 
brandished  spears  and  arrows  driving  through 
the  air  like  hail  in  winter,  he  would  swoop 
as  through  the  flying  leaves,  gust-whirled  in 
autumn,  eye  fixed  and  talons  set,  the  forest 
hawk  swoops  to  his  quarry.  No  man  e'er 
lived  on  whom  he  set  his  blazing  eye  in  bat- 
tle. In  peace  his  face  was  sunny.  Through 
his  yellow  beard  his  skin  showed  as  a  girl's. 
His  eye  was  as  a  pool,  on  whose  still  surface 
lilies  sleep  unstirred  by  breath  of  wind.  But 


UNGAVA.  125 

when  it  came  to  blows  his  face  grew  gray  as 
steel,  his  eyes  blazed  bluish  black  as  winter's 
sky,  when  all  the  warmth  is  frozen  out  of 
wave  and  star  and  heaven  itself  is  pitilessly 
cold.  But  when  the  fight  was  over  he  would 
take  his  wounded  foes  and  bear  them  to  his 
tent  and  nurse  them  as  a  mother  her  sick 
child.  Many  he  healed  and  with  strong  bodies 
they  went  home,  to  be  his  foes  again  and  fight 
him  on  some  other  day. 

"  Once  only  was  he  merciless.  It  was  that 
year  that  they  of  Mistassinni  hunted  seal  on 
the  west  coast  of  wild  Ungava,  where  the  ebb 
and  flood  of  icy  tides  are  twenty  times  the 
height  of  man's  full  stature.  One  day  a  ship 
drove  in  whirled  onward  by  a  tempest  from 
the  north,  through  froth  and  foam  that  whit- 
ened her  black  hull  a  spear's  length  deep  from 


126  UNGAVA. 

stern  to  stem.  Onward  she  drove  before  the 
whistling  winds,  her  sails  in  tatters  streaming 
in  thin  strips  from  spar  and  mast,  until  the 
mighty  eddy,  spinning  round  'twixt  a  great 
island  and  main  shore,  dashed  her,  side  on 
and  downward,  with  a  crash,  as  she  were 
eider's  egg,  upon  the  beach  in  front  of  our 
encampment.  One  only  of  her  crew  survived 
the  shock,  and  he,  a  giant,  battle-axe  in  hand, 
stood  on  the  sand  unharmed.  We  gathered 
round  him  as  he  stood  at  guard,  our  seal 
spears  pointed  into  sand  that  he  might  know 
we  fought  no  man  that  had  been  flung  by 
God's  swift-handed  mercy  out  of  death.1 

1  The  superstition  of  an  Indian  forbids  him  to  kill 
one  who,  apparently,  had  had  a  miraculous  escape  from 
death.  Many  white  men  have  escaped  their  vengeance 
because  of  this  feeling.  Captain  Rogers,  the  noted  scout, 


UNGAVA.  127 

"  Then  came  our  Leader  slowly  down  the 
slope  to  where  we  stood,  our  peaceful  spears 
in  sand,  a  smile  of  welcome  on  his  face  and 
light  of  gladness  shining  in  his  eye.  So  came 
he  and  within  the  circle  of  our  mercy  stood. 
But  as  his  eye  fell,  at  short  distance,  on  the 
man,  his  face  turned  into  ice.  Its  skin  grew 
gray  as  steel.  His  eyes  two  orbs  of  fire  be- 
came. From  nighest  girdle  plucked  he  battle- 
axe  and  on  the  stranger  stalked  until  he  came 
within  arm's  reach.  Then  tore  furred  vest- 
ment from  his  breast  until  the  dreadful  Letter 
painted  on  his  snow-white  skin  showed  red  as 
blood.  So  stood  he  posed.  In  one  clinched 

who  fell  or  slid  safely  down  the  front  of  the  great  cliff 
on  Lake  George,  which  was,  because  of  his  perilous  feat, 
named  after  him,  is  one  of  the  instances  out  of  many 
which  mig:ht  be  mentioned  in  this  connection. 


128  UNGAVA. 

hand  was  fragment  of  torn  skins,  torn  from 
his  heart ;  the  other  gripped  the  battle-axe. 
Thus  in  the  hollow  circle  of  our  mercy  stood 
the  two,  our  God  and  giant  stranger.  Then 
out  of  sockets  bulged  the  giant's  eyes.  The 
coarse  skin  of  his  cheeks  did  pallid  grow. 
His  black  hair,  rising  slowly,  lifted  woollen 
cap  from  head.  His  big  knees,  bigger  than 
joints  of  moose,  shook  under  his  huge  bulk. 
A  fit  of  trembling  seized  him.  Down  fell  he 
on  his  knees  while  in  his  monstrous  jaws  rat- 
tled his  teeth,  fear-shook.  Then  out  of  qua- 
vering mouth  there  came  a  scream,  '  Captain, 
have  mercy ! '  Speechless  still,  our  Leader, 
without  word  or  sign,  upward  swung  his  axe 
and  on  the  suppliant's  head  he  brought  it 
down  so  heavily  that  through  the  cloven  crown 
its  broad  base  sank  to  mangled  jowl,  and  the 


UNGAVA.  129 

big  bone  handle  flew  in  fragments  to  the 
striker's  hand.  Then,  turning  face  upon  us 
white  as  God's  own  wrath,  he  said,  '  Throw 
this  damned  carcass  into  torrent  swift  and  eddy 
deep,  that  they  may  whirl  and  float  it  where 
my  father's  soul  beyond  the  northern  straits 
waits  to  snatch  it  toward  the  mouth  of  hell 
and  thrust  his  murderer  in.'  Trapper,  thou 
art  white  man  without  cross,  and  of  his  race 
and  speech.  In  battle  thou  art  bigger,  but  no 
braver.  Who  was  this  White  God  of  rocky 
Mistassinni  ?  Who  was  his  father  ?  What 
the  red  Totem  on  his  heart ;  the  double  Let- 
ter red  as  blood?  My  power  is  blinded  to 
this  mortal  thing.  Beyond,  I  might  see  bet- 
ter. Can'st  thou  tell?" 

"  Ay,  ay,"  replied  the  Trapper.     "  Prophet, 
well  I  know  the  race  of  this  White  God  of  Mis- 


130  UNGAVA. 

tassinni,  who  was  his  sire,  and  what  the  double 
Letter  on  his  breast  did  mean.  The  boy  who 
came,  wind-blown  from  out  the  sea,  leagues 
west  of  Mistassinni,  in  boat  not  built  by  mor- 
tal hand,  —  because  not  built  of  bark,  —  and 
lay  at  sunrise  on  the  beach  all  wet  and  foul 
with  brine  and  sand,  and  by  the  old  Chiefs 
grandsire  there  was  found,  adopted,  wor- 
shipped as  a  god  by  all  the  tribes,  was  son 
of  bravest  man  that  ever  trod  a  deck  or 
chanced  the  dice  with  death  that  he  might 
westward  find  a  pathway  for  the  commerce 
of  the  world  and  bring  to  knowledge  of  the 
Cross  of  God  the  distant  tribes  of  men.  His 
name,  old  Seer,  was  Henry  Hudson,1  and  the 

1  I  can  but  refer  the  reader  to  the  history  of  early 
navigators,  of  whom  Henry  Hudson  was  one  of  the 
bravest,  for  a  full  account  of  his  sad  fate  and  that  of 


UNGAVA.  131 

monogram  or  Totem  —  call  it  as  you  please, 
as  you  be  red  or  white  —  upon  his  breast, 
was  the  two  first  letters  of  his  name  cun- 
ningly blent  in  one.  This  boy  the  old  Chief's 
grandsire  found  upon  the  beach,  was  that 
sweet  son  of  his,  scarce  more  than  child, 
who  bravely  by  his  father's  side  stood  up, 
when  by  his  crew,  in  cruel  mutiny,  the  boat 
was  pushed  from  his  stout  ship,  that  it  might 
bear  them,  drifting,  unto  awful  death.  Ay, 
now  I  know  why  he  *vas  merciless  when  on 
Ungava's  beach  his  father's  murderer  knelt 
roaring  for  mercy.  God !  what  a  blow  in 
judgment  did  he  strike,  and  how  it  eased 

his  brave  boy,  when  his  mutinous  crew  forced  him  into 
an  open  boat  and  sent  it  adrift  in  the  wild  waters 
which  now  bear  his  name.  Neither  he  nor  his  son 
was  ever  seen  by  white  men  after. 


132  UNGAVA. 

his  soul.  Prophet,  thou  art  above  the  com- 
mon superstitions  of  the  tribes,  and  I  have 
told  you  truth.  This  fabled  God  of  Mistas- 
sinni  ;  this  White  One  of  the  North  the 
tribes  do  worship,  was  Henry  Hudson's  son, 
a  man  of  my  own  race  and  tongue,  whose 
death  has  been  a  mystery  for  twice  a  hun- 
dred years.  Go  on  and  tell  me  all.  This 
is  great  news.  The  world  of  letters  and  of 
men  beyond  these  wastes  of  rock  and  leagues 
of  rootless  snow  and  ice  will  thrill  with  won- 
der when  it  learns  from  thee,  through  me,  the 
fate  of  Hudson  and  his  boy.  Whom  wedded 
he  ?  Were  children  born  to  him  ?  Are  any 
of  his  name  and  blood  alive,  or  is  the  line 
extinct  ?  Prophet,  I  swear  that  I  would  trail 
a  trail  until  my  head  was  white  if  at  the  end 
of  it  my  eyes  might  look  upon  the  face  of 


UNGAVA.  133 

one  within  whose  veins  there  flowed  the  noble 
blood  of  Hudson." 

Long  sat  the  Prophet  silently  revolving  in 
his  mind  what  he  had  heard.  His  features 
lighted  as  a  shuttered  window,  pane  by  pane, 
grows  out  of  darkness,  with  the  coming  of 
the  dawn.  His  eyes  of  night  glowed  under 
brows  of  snow  as  to  the  Trapper's  face  he 
lifted  them.  Then  slowly  out  of  parting  lips 
there  came  the  words,  "  In  cheek  of  snow 
that  thou  hast  seen,  John  Norton,  runs  this 
mighty  blood.  Thy  head  need  never  whiten 
on  the  trail  that  leads  thee  to  thy  wish.  The 
face  that  thou  would'st  see,  lies  there  on 
yonder  couch  of  skins.  Ungava  is  the  child 
of  the  White  God.  She  ends  the  line." 

Then  up  the  Trapper  rose.  His  face  white  as 
Ungava's,  as  she  lay  unconscious  on  the  couch 


134  UNGAVA. 

of  skins  whose  fur  was  black  as  jet  digged 
in  the  caves  of  night.  A  moment  stood  he 
dumb.  Then  said  he,  standing  straight : 

"  Prophet,  thou  art  a  man  of  many  days. 
Truth  should  be  on  thy  lips  and  fear  of  God. 
But  thou  do'st  tell  a  tale  so  strange  that  to 
thy  face  I  say  I  cannot  credit  it.  Proof  there 
must  be  of  this ;  proof  sure  as  eye  may  see. 
Give  me  some  proof  that  she,  the  savior  of 
my  life,  is  of  the  White  God's  blood,  or  I 
will  go  my  way  as  one  who  hears  an  idle 
story  told." 

Then  slowly  from  the  chair  of  polished 
horns  the  Seer  of  many  days  with  stately 
motion  rose.  His  pale  face  paler  grew,  and 
his  thin  hand,  on  which  the  stone  of  mystic 
power  blazed  red,  trembled  with  passion. 

"  Never  before,"  he   cried,   "  since   from  my 


UA'GAVA.  135 

sire,  as  God  did  take  him,1  received  I  ring  of 
power  and  wand  that  burns  because  I  will 
it,  has  mortal  doubted  word  of  mine,  and 
lived.  Thou  art  my  guest  and  ignorant,  thou 
mighty  man,  therefore  I  do  forgive.  Linked, 
also,  is  her  soul  with  thine,  and  how  or  what 
the  issue  is  to  be,  for  good  or  ill,  I  know 
not.  Hence  let  it  pass.  Do'st  thou  ask 
proof ;  proof  such  as  eye  can  see  ?  Come 
hither  then.  Fear  not ;  the  trance  in  which 
she  slumbers  sweetly  holds  all  senses  locked. 
Behold,  from  breast  of  snow  beneath  which 
dwells  her  spirit  pure  as  that  white  star  that 
never  moves  from  where  it  sentinels  the  cen- 
tre of  all  worlds  and  systems  which  move 
obedient  round  it,  I  lift  this  virgin  vestment. 
Tell  me,  thou  doubting  man,  do'st  thou  see 
1  "  And  Enoch  was  not,  because  God  took  him." 


136  UNGAVA. 

sign  that  cannot  lie  ?  Is  not  Ungava  child 
of  the  White  God  ? "  And  lo  !  with  starting 
eyes  the  Trapper  saw,  in  color  red  as  blood, 
the  double  Letter  on  her  bosom  white  as 
drifting  snow  ! 

"  Enough,  enough,"  he  cried  in  solemn 
tones.  "It  is  enough.  That  is  a  sign  that 
cannot  lie.  Ungava  is  the  child  of  your 
White  God !  By  all  I  hope  and  long  for 
in  the  world  to  come,  I  would  we  two  had 
never  met ! " 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    COUNCIL    OF   THE    CHIEFS. 

r"PHEN  came  a  runner,  running  from  the 
south.  O'er  fields  of  sand  ploughed  by 
the  winds  in  ridges ;  over  stretches  of  blocked 
ice,  cracked  into  squares,  blue,  green,  and  white, 
—  a  strange  mosaic  of  gigantic  size,  —  he  sped 
as  if  some  dreadful  death  was  speeding  on  his 
trail  From  village  unto  village  did  he  run, 
and  as  he  ran  he  cried  : 

"  To  arms !  to  arms !  the  Esquimaux  are 
coming !  A  thousand  warriors  armed  for 
fight,  and  at  their  head  an  ancient  chief 
stalks  on." 

So   ran    he   and    so   cried   his   wild    alarm. 


138  UNGAVA. 

Then  roared  the  villages  as  roars  the  hollow 
log  when  some  rude  shock  has  startled  hive 
within.  The  cry  of  woman  and  of  child 
arose.  It  swelled  in  vengeful  shrillness,  stri- 
dent, fierce  as  eagle's  scream.  Out  of  each 
warrior's  mouth  there  burst  the  battle  yell, 
and  hatchets  edged  for  death  flashed  in  the 
air. 

Then  flocked  the  chiefs  to  council,  and  the 
Indian  Parliament  was  held,  —  that  place  of 
high  debate  where  nature's  eloquence  is  heard 
and  noble  speech  leads  up  to  nobler  deeds. 
No  idle  word  is  spoken  there.  No  wily  pol- 
itician counsels  for  self-gain.  Each  word  is 
from  the  heart.  Each  sentence  like  sure 
stroke  of  axe ;  and  they  who  speak,  speak 
for  the  good  of  all,  and  every  statement  or 
appeal  is  backed  with  readiness  to  die. 


UNGAVA.  139 

In  the  high  hall  of  that  old  cavern  they 
did  meet.  The  man  of  ancient  days  sat  in 
his  awful  chair,  carved  into  shapes  fantastic, 
weird,  hewn  from  wood  unknown  among  the 
timber  of  the  world  to-day,  bristling  with  pol- 
ished horns  whose  every  point  shone  like  a 
star,  and  standing  on  the  pavement  black  as 
night,  whose  gloom  was  lighted  with  the  signs 
of  Zodiac  in  brightest  gold.  On  this  strange 
seat,  mysterious,  the  Wizard  sat,  Head  of  the 
Council.  Upon  his  banded  brows  were  horns 
of  burnished  gold.  Midway  between  their 
roots,  large  as  a  star,  a  diamond  blazed.  The 
mystic  Rod  was  in  his  stronger  hand.  Upon 
the  other  gleamed  the  dreadful  Ring,  instinct 
with  conscious  fire.  Pale  was  his  face.  His 
hair,  snow-white  as  whitened  wools,  lay  on 
his  shoulders  thin.  Beneath  his  brows  pro- 


1 40  UNGA  VA. 

jecting,  glowed  his  eyes,  bright  with  concen- 
trate light. 

Thus  was  he  seated.  On  his  right  the 
Trapper  sat,  strong- featured,  grave  of  face, 
observant.  On  his  left,  the  Chief  of  Mistas- 
sinni,  withered,  bloodless,  thin,  as  body  that 
had  risen  out  of  old  embalmment.  Then  in- 
ward filed,  with  slow  and  stately  pace,  the 
chieftains  of  the  Nasquapees.  Each  in  the 
solemn  circle  took  his  place.  Each  on  the 
earth  fixed  eye  and  silent  sat.  No  glance  of 
fire,  no  moving  lip  was  there.  They  sat  as 
sit  the  dead  in  circle  placed.  The  silence  of 
the  chamber  might  be  felt.  Thus  sat  they 
taciturn  and  grim,  while  hour-glass  would 
have  run  its  sands  half  out. 

Then  slowly  rose  an  aged  chief.  His  head 
was  gray  with  years,  but  straight  he  was  as 


UNGAVA.  141 

is  the  pine's  trunk  when  its  crest  is  shorn. 
Up  rose  he  straight,  and  stood.  Searched 
with  his  eye  each  tawny  face  with  glance 
of  fire  ;  cast  blanket  down  until  the  To- 
tem showed  above  his  heart ;  and  on  his 
breast  an  ochred  death's-head  grinned ;  then 
said  : 

"  Men  of  Ungava,  Nasquapees,  straight 
standing  men,1  the  hated  Esquimaux  are 

1  If  you  ask  a  Montagnais  Indian  what  Nasquapee 
means,  he  will  tell  you  an  atheist,  or  one  who  has  no 
God,  because  the  Nasquapees  have  no  medicine-man. 
But  if  you  ask  a  Nasquapee  what  his  tribal  name  means, 
he  will  tell  you  "  a  man  who  stands  straight."  He  will 
tell  you,  moreover,  that  he  believes  in  two  Great  Spirits, 
a  God  and  Evil  One,  and  that  the  reason  his  tribe  never 
had  a  medicine-man  is  because  they  have  a  great  Prophet 
who  is  of  the  old  race  whence  they  all  sprang,  and  that 
he  knows  all  things  and  can  call  the  dead  back  to  life 
when  he  wishes. 


142  UNGAVA. 

coming !  I  smell  them  in  the  air.1  They 
stink  like  rotting  seal.  Their  bodies  lie  un- 
buried  like  fish  upon  the  banks  of  Peribonka, 
after  freshet.  They  come  to  die.  The  blood 
of  other  days  is  in  our  veins.  We  of 
the  Ancient  Folk  know  how  to  fight.  My 
knife  is  thirsty.  It  knows  where  to  drink. 
Look  at  my  axe.  See,  it  is  dull  with  rust. 
I'll  brighten  it  to-morrow  on  their  skulls. 
Whose  are  these  arrows  ?  Look !  Are  they 
not  clean  as  are  the  arrows  of  a  boy  ?  It  is  so 
long  since  their  steel  heads  were  driven  into 
flesh.  I  am  a  boy  myself !  When  have  I 
seen  a  foe  ?  It  is  not  gray  of  years  upon 

1  As  I  have  said  in  a  previous  note,  the  Nasquapees 
are  noted  for  the  delicateness  of  their  scenting  faculty, 
being  as  a  dog  is  in  this  respect.  Their  sense  of  smell 
is  simply  marvellous. 


UNGAVA.  143 

my  head.  Some  other  boy  in  playfulness 
has  sprinkled  ashes  there !  We  Nasquapees 
have  been  asleep.  Awake.  Remember.  Look 
at  my  breast.  That  hole  will  hold  a  fist.  An 
Esquimau  stabbed  me  there.  It  was  that 
day  we  fought  them  on  the  Marguerite.  See 
where  his  seal  spear  pierced.  It  drove  clean 
through.  Look  at  my  back.  Beneath  the 
shoulder  blade  the  head  came  out.  To-mor- 
row in  the  ranks  of  death  I'll  find  the  dog 
that  drove  it  in,  and  pay  him  the  old  debt." 

And,  gathering  up  his  blanket  over  bosom 
scarred  with  dreadful  wound,  he  sat  him 
down,  while  round  the  lowering  circle  venge- 
ful murmurs  ran. 

Then  up  stood  other  one.  The  horns  of 
power  were  on  his  head.  Around  his  neck 
a  string  of  polar  claws  gleamed  white.  One 


144  UNGAVA. 

eye  was  gone.  The  other  blazed  like  coal  of 
fire  blown  hot.  The  glowing  orb  he  fixed  in 
turn  on  each  swarth  face  in  silence.  Then 
stretched  to  fullest  length  his  sinewy  arm, 
and  spake : 

"  Warriors  of  the  North !  Sons  of  sires 
that  lived  in  the  beginning,  what  foe  has  ever 
seen  your  backs  in  battle  ?  Your  blood  a 
hundred  times  has  reddened  ice  on  cold  Un- 
gava,  and  fell  in  battle  rain  on  its  coarse 
gravel.  We  are  a  thousand  knives.  One  for 
each  knife  comes  on.  Upon  that  field  above 
the  sounding  sea  where  for  a  thousand  years 
our  sires  did  fight,  there  will  we  fight  to- 
morrow. Look  at  my  face.  Where  is  my 
other  eye  ?  Whose  spear's  point  bored  it 
out?  Look  at  my  breast.  You  cannot  see 
it.  It  is  hidden  under  scars.  Who  made 


UNGAVA.  145 

them  ?  White  Wolf,  where  is  your  oldest 
son  ?  His  bones  are  bleaching  on  the  sands 
of  Mamelons.  I  saw  him  fall  beneath  the 
axe  of  Esquimau.  His  spirit  wanders  un- 
avenged. Black  Bear,  where  are  your  chil- 
dren ?  The  Esquimau  dogs  on  the  flat 
banks  of  Peribonka  ate  them.  Gray  Fox, 
where  is  your  youngest  daughter  ?  She  toils 
a  slave,  beaten  by  Esquimau  whips,  at  Lab- 
rador. Is  the  old  blood  frozen  in  us  ?  No. 
It  burns  like  fire  in  autumn  rushes.  The 
dead  are  looking  at  us.  They  are  bursting 
out  of  graves  to  see  if  we  be  men.  Listen. 
Hear.  Their  voices  call  for  vengeance.  One 
day,  give  us  one  day  of  glorious  battle,  and 
we  will  feed  the  hungry  wolves  of  wild  Un- 
gava  fat  with  flesh  of  Esquimaux." 

So  thundered   he,  and  at  the   closing  word 


146  UNGAVA. 

of  the  maimed  warrior,  up  with  a  yell  the  cir- 
cle leapt,  and  twenty  axes  lifted  high  flashed 
gleaming  brightly  through  the  cavern's  gloom. 

Then  on  the  left  of  the  great  chair  the 
Chief  of  Mistassinni  rose,  tongueless,  with- 
ered, thin  with  age,  but  his  old  frame,  charged 
with  electric  hate,  quivered  with  life  intense, 
while  in  his  head  his  eyes  glowed  like  a 
panther's,  crouching  for  his  spring.  Then 
every  horny  point  bristling  round  the  Wiz- 
ard's seat  burned  brighter,  kindling  with  fiercer 
fires  ;  and  as  the  cavern  filled  with  whitest 
light,  around  the  swarthy  circle  ran  an  awful 
murmur : 

"  The  dead  have  risen  I  Old  Mistassinni 
from  his  grave  above  the  Saguenay,  coming 
out  of  dead-land,  stands  in  our  council  !  " 

Then  murmur  died  in  silence,  while  in  the 


UNGAVA.  147 

white    light    stood    the    old-time    chief,    and 
signed  : 

"  Men  who  stand  straight.  Sons  of  the 
ancient  race  who  once  ruled  half  the  world, 
I,  tongueless,  speak  to  you  in  that  old  language 
which  has  come  to  you  from  the  beginning. 
I  am  a  chief  of  other  days.  Your  fathers 
knew  me.  I  was  their  friend,  and  in  their 
aid  have  fought  upon  the  sands  of  wild  Un- 
gava  here,  while  you  were  yet  unborn.  You 
know  my  fame,  for  it  filled  all  the  north. 
Above  the  Saguenay  I  stood  the  test.1  I 
was  at  torture  stake.  An  Esquimau  tore  my 
tongue  from  out  my  mouth,  and  ate  it.  Then 
lighted  he  the  fagots.  I  did  not  die.  Behold, 
he  who  sits  there  —  a  man  without  a  cross, 

1  An  expression  used  by  an  Indian  to  state  that  he 
has  stood  the  torture  of  the  torture  stake. 


148  UNGAVA. 

white  as  your  God,  but  red  as  bravest  chief 
at  heart  —  did  rescue  me.  I  lived,  and  ever 
since  have  waited  for  my  day  and  chance. 
To-morrow  I  will  fight  with  you.  Your 
Prophet,  he  who  seeth  all  in  living-land  or 
dead-land,  has  said  that  with  the  Esquimaux 
my  foe  is  coming.  It  is  well.  In  battle  shall 
I  die,  and  leaving  dead  upon  the  sands  my 
hated  foe,  I,  joyful,  will  take  trail  which  leads 
me  to  my  sires.  Sons  of  those  with  whom  in 
other  days  I  fought ;  men  who  stand  straight ; 
children  of  that  old  race  that  once  ruled  half 
the  world  ;  I,  of  Mistassinni,  will  fight  the 
Esquimaux  with  you  to-morrow.  I  have  said." 
So  spake  the  tongueless  chief  in  stately 
language  of  old  days,  the  vivid  speech  of  pan- 
tomime,—  that  quick  and  universal  tongue  of 
ancient  races ;  and  as  he  sat,  the  warrior  circle 


UNGAVA.  149 

rose  and  facing  toward  the  aged  man  who  had 
been  friend  and  ally  of  their  sires  ere  they  were 
born,  each  warrior,  hand  on  breast,  bowed  low 
in  stately  courtesy  to  the  ground. 

Then,  after  pause,  the  Trapper  rose  ;  and 
every  eye  in  the  dark  circle  fixed  itself  in 
admiration  on  his  mighty  frame. 

"  Men  of  the  North,"  he  said,  "  your  fame 
is  known  to  me.  My  name,  perhaps,  is  known 
to  you.  I  am  the  friend  of  yonder  aged  chief, 
and  was  the  friend  of  him  whose  bosom  bore 
the  Tortoise  sign,  who  stemmed  the  bloody 
tide  with  you  at  Mamelons  in  that  dread  fight 
which  God  by  darkness  stopped.'  I  am  John 
Norton." 

1  Referring  to  the  dreadful  fight  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Saguenay,  which  the  earthquake  finally  stopped.  (See 
the  Doom  of  Mamelons.) 


150  UNGAVA. 

Then  out  of  every  mouth  there  burst  a  cry 
of  wonder  and  applause.  Each  swarthy  hand 
dashed  upward,  palm  outward,  unto  him,  and 
every  feathered  head  bowed  to  the  cavern's 
floor.  Then  spake  he  farther : 

"  I  have  come  northward  with  the  Chief  to 
see  him  fight  last  fight,  and  prove  my  love 'for 
him  by  doing  as  he  bids.  No  greater  proof 
has  love  than  that  to  give.  To-morrow  he 
will  find  among  the  Esquimaux  his  foe.  You 
are  the  sons  of  sires  who  never,  beaten,  left 
a  bloody  field,  and  need  no  help  from  me.  I 
will  stand  by  and  see  the  old  Chief  has  fair 
fight.  So  has  he  bidden  and  so  will  I  do.  I 
am  his  friend,  and  with  him  keep  I  word  and 
bond.  I  have  said."  And,  as  he  closed,  a 
murmur  of  assent  ran  round  the  circle 
dark. 


UNGA  VA.  151 

Then  from  his  chair  the  Wizard  spake,  and 
as  he  spake  the  lights  burned  fading  down, 
and  at  the  closing  word  the  chamber  filled 
with  gloom  : 

"  My  children,  I,  your  Prophet,  High  Priest 
of  that  old  race  which  once  ruled  half  the 
world,  of  which  you  are,  Ancient  of  Days, 
speak  words  of  Fate.  To-morrow  you  shall 
fight  and  win.  The  Chief  of  Mistassinni 
shall  find  foe  and  chance.  In  dying  he  shall 
put  the  Trapper  under  word  and  bond,  and 
you  shall  see  such  fight  as  never  yet  was 
seen  on  wild  Ungava,  where  fights  have  been 
for  twice  a  thousand  years.  Northward  the 
Esquimaux  shall  never  march  again.  My  hour 
has  almost  come.  Soon  shall  I  rise,  as  all  my 
line  have  risen  after  many  years,  into  the  skies, 
not  knowino-  death.  None  of  our  Caste  has 


152  UNGAVA. 

ever  entered  grave.  God  takes  us.1  Ungava 
will  go  westward  to  that  lake  to  which  of  old 
the  White  God  came.  You  shall  not  see  her 
ever  more.  The  race  that  was  with  ours  in 
the  beginning  has  died,  and  ours  is  dying. 
Fate  has  it  so,  and  who  may  alter  fate !  But 
make  the  sunset  of  my  going  glorious.  To- 
morrow fight  as  you  nor  any  ever  fought 
before,  that  I  may  feel  the  pride  of  ancient 
days  and  bear  with  me  a  glorious  message 
to  your  sires  as  I  join  them  in  the  skies  be- 
yond the  northern  fires.  I,  Seer  and  Prophet, 
Ancient  of  Days,  have  spoken.  Go." 

And,  as  he  ceased,  the  lights  died  out,  and 
through  the  gloom  was  heard  the  sound  of 
softly  going  feet. 

1  Genesis  v.  24. — And  Enoch  was  not,  because  God 
took  him. 


UNGAVA.  153 

Next  day  beheld  the  lines  of  battle  set.  A 
thousand  on  each  side,  they  stretched  across 
the  plain  on  which  a  hundred  fights  had  been 
in  other  days.  On  graves  where  slept  their 
sires,  the  living  stood,  ready  to  die.  Then 
joined  the  battle.  The  hostile  lines  in  charg- 
ing columns  met,  and  out  of  war's  red  mouth 
an  awful  bellowing  poured.  Amid  the  Nas- 
quapees,  upon  the  left,  the  tongueless  Chief 
of  Mistassinni  fought.  Gray,  withered,  dumb, 
he  seemed  a  warrior  out  of  dead-land.  He 
spake  no  word  ;  from  mouth  no  yell  of  tri- 
umph came,  nor  order  ;  but  silently  he  killed. 
The  Esquimaux  before  the  dreadful  apparition 
fled.  They  cried :  "  The  dead  have  risen ! 
who  can  the  dead  withstand  !  "  and  ran. 

Upon  the  right,  heading  the  Esquimaux, 
another  ancient  warrior,  gray,  withered,  dumb, 


154  UNGAVA. 

fought  in  same  dreadful  style.  The  Nasqua- 
pees,  affrighted  at  the  awful  sight,  fled  crying : 
"The  dead  have  risen!  This  is  no  living  war- 
rior ;  —  who  can  the  dead  withstand  !  "  Thus 
either  end  of  battle  line  bent  backward  and 
gave  way  before  the  ghostly  sight. 

Then  to  the  Chief  of  Mistassinni  a  wounded 
warrior  ran,  and  cried  :  "On  the  far  right  a 
warrior  risen  out  of  grave  is  driving  all  before 
him.  .  Come  and  help."  And  to  the  Esqui- 
maux there  came  a  runner,  running  as  for 
life,  and  said  :  "  Come  to  the  other  end  of 
battle,  for  out  of  death  has  come  a  chief  of 
ancient  days  who  driveth  all  before  him." 
And  thus  the  two  old  chiefs,  who  long  had 
waited  for  this  day  of  vengeance,  came  hurry- 
ing toward  each  other,  and,  midway  between 
the  scattered  wings,  met  face  to  face,  at  last ! 


UNGAVA.  155 

So  did  the  two  old  apparitions  stand  mid- 
way betwixt  the  lines,  grim,  silent,  glaring  at 
each  other,  gathering  strength  for  battle  unto 
death.  And  all  the  war  grew  silent  as  the 
two,  and  stood  at  rest,  waiting  to  see  the 
awful  fight  begin. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

DUEL    OF   THE    OLD    DUMB    CHIEFS. 

0 

r~P'HEN  each  his  hatchet  threw,  and  all  the 
•*•  might  of  their  old  withered  arms  went 
with  the  deadly  cast.  The  bright  blades 
whirling  on  met  in  mid  flight,  and  steel  and 
handles  shivered  at  the  shock  like  glass. 
Then  up  from  either  line  of  faces  battle- 
painted,  ochred  in  panoply  of  death,  rose  a 
shrill  yell  as  the  war  hatchets  shivered,  —  a 
sight  no  warrior  standing  there  had  ever  seen 
before,  though  some  were  gray  in  war  and 
scarred  with  half  a  hundred  battles.  But  on 
the  heel  of  that  wild  yell  of  thoughtless  rage 

and   pride,    the    prophets   of    each   tribe    sent 

156 


UNGAVA.  157 

forth  a  wail,  low,  wild,  and  long  as  is  the  cry 
of  crouching,  shivering  hound  above  the  dying 
hunter,  —  dying  in  the  snow.  For  well  they 
read  the  sign,  and  knew  that  never  yet  had 
warriors  lived  whose  axes  met  midway  be- 
tween their  heads  and  shivered  in  the  air. 

Then  the  two  aged,  tongueless  foes  drew 
bow  and  loosened  quiver,  and  quick  as  light- 
ning's flash  set  shaft  to  tightened  string. 
The  air  between  them  on  the  instant  thick- 
ened with  flying  shafts ;  the  rounded  shields 
of  walrus  hide,  hung  from  their  necks  above 
each  shrivelled  breast,  rang  like  two  anvils 
tapped  by  falling  hammers  as  the  steel-headed 
arrows  smote  them.  So  rained  and  rang  the 
bolts  of  death  upon  the  two  opposing  shields, 
and,  when  the  sheafs  were  spent,  their  tawny, 
shrunken  arms  and  shoulders  were  cut  and 


158  UNGAVA. 

pierced  with  gashes  red  and  deep,  and  blood 
fell  downward  from  their  wounds  as  fall  the 
first  drops  from  a  cloud  before  the  thunder 
rolls ;  while  at  their  feet  the  feathers  from 
the  broken  shafts  lay  thick  as  plumage  in  a 
glade  above  whose  turf  two  hungry,  hunting 
eagles,  swooping  at  one  prey,  have  met  in 
mad  and  disappointed  swoop,  and  clinched. 
But  by  no  bolt  had  either  shield  been  pierced, 
and  underneath  the  tough,  protecting  hides 
their  old  mad  hearts,  untouched,  beat,  hating, 
on. 

Then  rose  a  mighty  murmur,  and  each  line 
of  battle,  forgetful  of  its  hate,  swayed  in 
around  the  fighters  ;  for  never  on  wild  Un- 
gava's  stormy  shore,  where  bloody  war  had 
been  for  twice  a  thousand  years,  had  there 
been  seen  by  mortal  eyes  such  dreadful  fight 


UNGAVA.  159 

before.  It  was  as  if  these  two  old  chiefs  had 
burst  their  cerements  of  bark  and  risen  out 
of  graves,  shrivelled,  dried,  death-dumb,  to 
fight,  and  show  the  younger  men  that  gazed, 
how  their  old  grandsires  fought  it  out.  The 
Trapper,  leaning  on  his  rifle  not  ten  paces 
off,  saw  in  the  gloomy  orbs  of  the  old  Chief 
the  death  light  shine,  and  knew  that  this  was 
his  last  battle.  Thrice  lifted  he  his  rifle  butt 
from  sand,  then  drove  it  back.  Thrice  did  his 
mighty  fingers  seek  hatchet  handle,  then  fall 
away,  and  with  a  groan  he  said : 

"  Nay.  Nay.  It  may  not  be.  It  is  a 
mighty  fight  and  fair.  My  God !  it  must  go 
on !  But  his  old  eyes  will  never  gaze  again 
on  the  loved  rocks  of  Mistassinni ! " 

Thus  mingled  were  both  wars.  The  Es- 
quimau stood  side  by  side  with  hated  Nas- 


1 60  UNGA  VA. 

quapee.  Their  painted  faces  almost  touched 
as  they  stood  thronged  around  the  dreadful 
two  whose  hearts  were  hot  with  hate  kindled 
in  old  fights  fought  on  those  barren  shores 
before  the  warriors  round  them  had  been 
born. 

Then  the  two  fighters,  grim  and  gray,  with 
stately  motion  lifted  their  old  hands,  palm 
outward,  and  called  mutual  truce.  Then  sig- 
nalled the  gray  Esquimau  in  dumb  show  to 
his  tribe  : 

"  My  children,  here  fight  I  my  last  fight. 
My  fathers  call  me,  and  I  go.  The  trail  has 
waited  long  and  I  must  tread  it  now.  This 
chief  and  I  have  met  before.  With  this  right 
hand  I  tore  his  tongue  from  out  his  mouth. 
Lying  half  smothered  in  the  brands,  his  hand 
launched  knife  at  me,  which  passing  through 


UNGA  VA.  1 6 1 

my  face  made  my  mouth  dumb  forever.  We 
both  have  wrongs  to  right,  and  we  will  right 
them  here.  Take  ye  my  body  to  that  bold 
bluff  where  all  my  fathers  sleep  abreast  of 
Anticosti.  Lay  me  with  them  there  where 
I  may  hear  the  tides  come  roaring  in,  and 
see  the  seals  at  play.  Let  there  be  wail 
for  me  as  for  an  old-time  chief  among  the 
tents  which  empty  stand  and  will  stand 
empty  ever  more  beside  the  sea  whose  moan 
shall  sound  forever  for  a  race  forever  gone. 
From  this  last  field  of  mine  bring  into  Spirit- 
Land  such  news  of  deeds  and  death  as  shall 
make  welcome  for  you  such  as  warriors  give 
and  get  around  those  spirit  fires  which  light 
the  lodges  of  our  sires  beyond  the  northern 
sky.  I,  dying,  give  cheer  to  you  about  to  die. 
So  fare  you  well." 


1 62  UNGAVA. 

Then  to  the  Trapper  signalled  his  dumb 
friend : 

"  Trapper,  the  trail  is  ready  and  I  go.  This 
Esquimau  and  I  will  end  our  quarrel  here. 
The  trail  is  long-  and  lonely,  but  never  yet 
hast  thou  failed  dying  man.  I  love  thee, 
Trapper,  for  thou  art  true.  No  white  is  in 
thee.  Thou  art  red.  I  shall  not  see  thee 
ever  after  this.  Thy  trail  runs  to  the  front 
of  Atla's  throne ;  mine  to  my  father's  lodge. 
Tell  her  from  me,  that  he  who  made  her 
grave  at  Mamelons  sent  greeting  to  her  when 
he  died.  Take  thou  my  body  to  far  Mistas- 
sinni  and  lay  it  in  that  cave  where  sleep  my 
sires  and  where  forever  sound  the  voices  of 
the  dead.  When  we  have  ended  this,  let 
these  damned  Esquimaux  feel  thy  rifle  butt 
and  knife.  At  sunset,  out  of  this  last  fray 


UNGAVA.  163 

of  mine,  let  both  come  forth  well  wet  with 
brains  and  blood.  It  is  my  last  behest.  I 
love  thee,  Trapper,  like  a  chief.  So  give  me 
word  and  bond.  May  no  knife  ever  girdle 
head  of  thine.  So  fare  thee  well." 

Then  spake  the  Trapper : 

"  Old  friend,  as  thou  hast  said,  so  shall  it 
be,  if  life  holds  with  me  after  this.  Thy 
greeting  will  I  give  her  when  we  meet. 
Thy  body  will  I  bear  to  Mistassinni,  and, 
in  the  cave  where  sleep  thy  sires  and 
where  their  voices  sound  forever,  there  shall 
it  sleep.  These  dogs  of  Esquimaux  shall 
feel  my  rifle  butt  and  knife.  From  this  last 
fray  of  thine  they  shall  come  forth  both  red 
and  wet.  I  give  thee  word  and  bond.  So 
lay  on,  Chief,  and  make  thy  vengeance  sure. 
Thy  heaven  may  not  be  mine ;  and  so  I 


164  UNGAVA. 

say  my  long  farewell,  and  give  thee  dying 
cheer." 

Then  once  again  the  old  gray  haters  faced, 
and  their  throats  rattled,  struggling  with  wild 
yells.  Their  sunken  eyes  glowed  hot  as 
burning  coals.  They  dashed  their  shields  to 
earth  and  stooped  low  down.  Then  drew 
their  knives,  long,  bright,  and  keenly  edged ; 
sprang  into  air  and  met,  —  and  struck.  Each 
knife  drove,  heart-deep,  home ;  and,  as  they 
fell  apart,  each  bosom  held  the  other's  blade 
sunk  'twixt  the  ribs  to  the  strong  handle.  So 
they  died. 

Then  for  a  space  was  silence.  Deep  as 
death's,  it  hung  above  the  host  and  stayed 
the  pulses  of  the  air.  Then  into  it  and 
through  it,  swelling  slowly  up  and  wavering 
on,  the  Indian  wail  arose,  wild  and  weird,  the 


UNGAVA.  165 

saddest  of  all  wailing  ever  sounded  out  of 
throat  of  woe.  Quavering  it  swelled,  lingered 
in  long  plaint,  then  died  away  in  thinnest 
sound,  and  all  the  bloody  plain  was  silent  as 
the  grave  again.  Then,  suddenly,  like  crash 
of  thunder  in  the  breathless  pause  of  some 
hot  summer  night,  there  burst  a  yell  that 
ripped  the  silence  into  fragments.  It  burst 
from  out  a  thousand  throats  as  if  the  thousand 
had  been  joined  in  one,  and  through  it  hell 
had  sent  from  out  her  caves  its  scream  of 
hottest  hate.  Then  deadly  strife  went  down 
and  rioted  among  them.  Mixed  and  jammed 
they  were  together.  Each  man  found  foe  be- 
side him.  No  room  for  arrow  or  for  spear 
was  there.  Each  hand  set  fingers  into  near- 
est throat  until  their  nails  in  torn  flesh  met. 
Then  knives  were  plucked  and  reddened  to 


1 66  UNGAVA. 

the  handles  as  they  found  flesh,  and  half  the 
battle  in  the  sand  lay  coiled  and  knotted  like 
a  field  of  snakes.  So  wrestled  they  and  clung, 
bit,  struck,  and  died. 

When  rose  the  signal  yell  the  Trapper's 
rifle  cracked.  Both  barrels  rang  almost  in 
twin  report  and  two  tall  chiefs  sank  brainless 
to  the  sand.  Then,  swinging  heavy  hatchet 
in  mighty  hand,  into  the  jammed  battle  did  he, 
headlong,  plunge.  Half  through  the  thick- 
ened throng  of  fighting  men  he  hewed  his 
way.  Through  lifted  shield  his  red  axe  sank 
to  covered  head  and  clove  to  shattered  jaw. 
The  warding  spear  shaft,  gnarled  and  thick, 
shivered  like  rod  of  glass  beneath  his  dread- 
ful stroke.  He  warded  neither  knife  nor 
spear.  The  terror  of  his  arm  was  his  de- 
fence. In  his  red  wake  the  Nasquapees 


UNGAVA.  167 

rushed  in.  They  guarded  safe  and  sure  the 
back  of  their  great  friend.  He  knew  it  not. 
He  only  saw  his  thickening  foes  in  front,  and 
strode  straight  on.  He  grew  in  rage  as  grew 
the  fight.  In  him  war  stood  incarnate,  fierce 
and  red.  The  ancient  dead  fought  in  him. 
For  o'er  his  head  he  heard  the  steady  tramp 
of  feet,  and  through  the  air  the  old  Iberian 
murmurs  run.  And  'mid  the  whiz  of  arrows, 
whir  of  hatchets,  crash  of  axes,  and  the  thug 
of  spears  as  they  were  driven  home,  he  heard 
a  voice  he  knew  cry  clear  and  loud : 

"  Lay  on,  John  Norton,  lay  thou  on !  For 
the  old  Tortoise's  sake, — whose  son  thou  art, 
and  king  shalt  be,  —  show  thy  full  strength 
this  day  and  make  good  her  right  to  name 
thee  lord  and  master  to  the  mighty  warriors 
of  her  race,  now  gazing  at  thee,  under  lifted 


1 68  UNGAVA. 

shields  above  Ungava.  Lay  on,  I  say,  for 
tribal  sign  and  her !  " 

Then  he  went  wild.  He  cast  his  dreadful 
axe  in  air,  and,  clutching  rifle  by  the  muzzle, 
drove  headlong  at  them.  His  mighty  face, 
lean-featured,  rigid,  battle-white,  sharp-set  as 
flint  edged  for  the  pan,  was  horrible  to  see. 
His  great,  gray  eyes,  beneath  his  shaggy 
brows,  were  black  as  night,  in  whose  black 
centre  lightnings  burn  and  blaze. 

From  left  to  right  —  a  mighty  sweep  —  his 
heavy  rifle  swept.  Stock,  locks,  and  wood- 
work shivered  as  he  struck,  and  flew  in  splin- 
ters wide  cast.  Around  him  centred  all  the 
battle.  He  was  the  battle.  Ahead  of  him 
the  Esquimaux  rallied  thick  as  bees  in  bush, 
when  some  intruding  shock  has  burst  the  hive, 
and  inner  comb  and  dome  of  gray  lie  on  the 


UNGAVA.  169 

ground  in  patches.  Through  buckskin  shirt  and 
jacket  stout  their  pelting  arrows  stung.  They 
spotted  him  with  blood.  He  felt  no  smart  nor 
sting,  but  like  a  maddened  lion  ramped  on. 
In  Esquimaux  no  coward  blood  e'er  flowed. 
They  are  a  hardy  stock,  and  all  their  lives 
are  lived  in  peril.  They  breasted  bravely  up 
against  him  by  the  score,  their  coarse  hair 
bristling  and  their  small  eyes  adder-red.  On 
shoulders  broad  and  stout,  on  thickened  skull 
and  wide  breast-bone,  the  bevelled  barrels  fell 
and  crushed.  He  smote  them  down  as  thresh- 
er's flail  beats  banded  bundles  on  thresh- 
ing-floor. With  every  stroke  his  breathing 
sounded  wide.  So  fought  he,  and  so  they, 
quivering,  died. 

Then    into    the    wild    battle    ran    a    figure 
clothed    in    black.      At   waist  a  tasselled    cord 


170  UNGAVA. 

was  tied.  His  head  was  shaven  bare.  In 
high  uplifted  hand  a  silver  crucifix  gleamed 
white.  Upon  a  pile  of  dead  men,  tumbled 
like  jammed  logs,  —  a  dreadful  heap  of  death, 
—  the  holy  friar  leaped  and  held  high  the  sign 
of  Calvary.  Then  Nasquapees  and  Esqui- 
maux dropped  on  their  knees  and  flung  their 
weapons  down.  They  knelt  to  Heaven's  sign. 
With  steady  hand  the  holy  man  held  silver 
cross  on  high,  and  to  the  dreadful  slayer 
called : 

"  Stay  hand !  Stay  hand,  thou  dreadful 
man  !  For  Holy  Mary's  sake  and  her  dear 
Son's,  stay  now  thy  bloody  hand !  Above 
this  awful  field  I  lift  this  sacred  sign  and  bid 
this  strife  to  cease.  Let  these  poor  men  that 
live,  go  free." 

Then   stood   the   Trapper.      From   dripping 


UNGAVA. 

brow  the  battle  sweat  he  wiped  with  one  red 
hand,  and,  gripping  hard  the  bloody  and  bent 
barrels  in  the  other,  said : 

"  In  yonder  dell  the  tongueless  Chief  of 
Mistassinni  lieth  dead.  Between  his  ribs  the 
driven  knife  still  clings.  In  fair  and  mighty 
battle  did  he  die.  I  was  his  friend.  He 
knew  his  doom  and  bade  me  long  farewell. 
He  loved  me  like  a  chief,  and  therefore 
charged  me,  under  word  and  bond,  that  I 
come  forth  from  this  last  fray  of  his  with  rifle 
butt  and  knife  well  wet  and  red  with  brains 
and  blood.  I  gave  him  word  and  bond,  and 
joyfully  he  took  the  trail  that  led  him  to  his 
sires. 

"  Bond  and  word  have  I  kept  on  this  full 
field.  Above  the  dead  and  dying  thou  hast 
lifted  sacred  sign.  I  am  a  Christian  man. 


172  UNGAVA. 

Let,  therefore,  these  damned  dogs  go  hence 
alive.  They  owe  me  rifle,  —  barrels,  stock 
and  locks,  and  hatchet  flung  high  up,  when 
in  the  air  I  heard  her  old-time  people's  war 
cries  ring,  and  caught  the  sound  of  charging 
feet  above  my  head.  I  will  collect  my  debt 
upon  them  on  some  other  day.  Aye,  let  the 
dogs  go  hence.  I  am  a  Christian  man." 

So  spake  he.  Then  turned  his  back  on 
priest  and  living  foe,  and,  lining  steps  by  the 
long  row  of  bodies  he  had  smitten  down 
through  bloody  lane  made  by  his  awful  rage, 
he  came  to  where  the  silent  Chief  of  Mistas- 
sinni  lay  silent  evermore. 

But  when  he  came  to  where  the  old  Chief 
lay,  he  started,  for  lo !  amid  the  dead,  robed 
in  black  furs  from  head  to  foot,  a  hood  of 
night's  jet  blackness  on  her  head,  her  ser- 


UNGAVA.  173 

pent  wand  of  twisted  gold  in  hand,  her  face 
white  as  the  snow,  her  great  orbs  fixed  in 
mournful  gloom  upon  the  dead  man's  face, 
his  withered  hand  in  hers,  there  sat  Ungava! 

Then  spake  he,  as  he  stood  all  dripping 
red,  the  wrath  of  battle  in  his  blood  and  half 
its  fierceness  blazing  in  his  eye. 

"  Never  on  battle  plain  did  I  see  dead  so 
thick !  I  would  that  his  old  eyes  had  seen 
a  man  without  a  cross  keep  word  and  bond. 
This  was  last  fray  of  his,  and  had  he  lived  to 
see  it  foughten  out,  he  would  have  had  a 
tale  to  tell  the  chiefs  he  met  as  he  burst 
into  Spirit- Land  that  would  have  sent  their 
hatchets  whirling  high  in  air  as  they  gave  war- 
rior's welcome.  Thou  hast  seen  either  world, 
but  did'st  thou  ever  see  such  fight  before,  in 
living-land  or  dead-land,  Ungava?" 


1 74  UNGA  VA. 

Then  she  made  answer.  Sitting  by  the 
dead  amid  the  dead,  and  lifting  eyes  of  gloom 
to  his  great  face,  she  said  : 

"  Fights  many  have  I  seen  on  sand  and 
ice  beneath  a  sun  that  neither  set  nor  rose, 
and  under  lights  no  mortal  hand  e'er  kindled 

in     the    North,    which    burned     the    unseen, 

• 
rounded   end  of  the  world, — but  never   such 

a  fight  as  this.  Above  you,  as  you  onward 
hewed  your  way,  the  old-time  dead  stood 
thick  as  sedge  at  edge  of  salted  streams  in 
summer.  Some  were  of  my  red  race,  for 
they  waved  hatchets  over  head,  and  on  their 
naked  bosoms,  crimsoned  bright,  I  saw  the 
Tortoise  sign.  I  knew  the  Totem,  for  often 
have  I  seen  it  on  the  breast  of  him,  your 
friend,  who  saved  the  fight  on  the  flat  banks 
of  Peribonka,  where  my  father  died.  But 


UNGAVA.  175 

others  did  I  see,  more  vast  of  limb  and  huge; 
a  giant  throng,  tall,  big-breasted,  lofty  as 
pines,  who,  under  oval  shields  bright  as  the 
sun,  pure  gold,  their  edges  lifted  high,  gazed 
at  you  as  you  hewed  on.  And  when,  at  last, 
thou  did'st  cast  hatchet  high  in  air,  and,  bare- 
headed, without  guard,  did'st  beat  them  down 
with  heavy  rifle  clubbed,  and  all  its  stock  and 
polished  woodwork  into  splinters  flew,  their 
mighty  swords  on  golden  shields  did  clash 
and  such  a  roar  went  up  as  never  lifted  air 
of  either  world  before.  O  dreadful  man,  it 
was  a  dreadful  fight,  and  long  and  wild  will 
rise  the  wail  from  maid  and  wife  in  the  skin 
tents  of  Labrador,  when  from  the  North  there 
shall  be  bruited  down  from  tribe  to  tribe  the 
tidings  of  this  fray  on  far  Ungava.  God 
grant  thee  mercy,  Trapper,  when  in  hour  of 


I  76  UNGA  VA. 

need    he    reckons  with   thee  for    this   dreadful 
day." 

"So  be  it,"  gravely  answered  he,  "  God 
grant  me  mercy  full  and  sure  for  sin  done 
here  or  anywhere,  when  in  my  hour  of  need 
he  reckons  with  me  for  this  fray  or  other 
red  ones  I  have  fought  in.  Thou  art  a  girl, 
Ungava,  and  can'st  not  understand  a  war- 
rior's soul  in  battle.  I  did  give  word  and 
bond  to  this  old  chief,  my  friend,  who  for 
the  length  of  warrior's  life  had  walked  the 
vocal  world  of  God  with  silent  mouth,  shut 
off  from  all  he  loved  and  lived  for  by  the 
great  wrong  done  to  him  at  the  stake  by  the 
damned  Esquimaux.  Through  savage  circle, 
as  they  tortured,  did  I  break  when  blazed  the 
fire  they  lighted  round  him.  This  foot  it  was 
that  cast  the  fagots  wide,  when,  from  the 


UNGAVA.  177 

thongs  cut  by  my  knife,  he  fell  headlong 
among  them.  For  thirty  years  he  lived  seek- 
ing this  day,  his  foe  and  chance.  Foe  and 
chance  did  he  find  on  this  far  field,  and 
mighty  battle  did  he  make,  though  age  had 
whitened  head  and  shrivelled  hand.  Here, 
dying,  did  he  put  me  under  bond  to  right 
the  wrong  which  he  had  borne  for  half  a  life. 
So  stood  the  matter.  I  fought  for  friendship 
and  for  right,  and  God  will  grant  me  mercy, 
if,  in  battle  fiercely  set,  I  did  in  wrath  strike 
one  red  blow  too  heavy  or  too  many.  So  let 
it  rest  until  I  come  to  where  the  scales  are 
poised  for  warriors  and  for  wrongs  righted  in 
battle.  I  will  bide  issue  like  a  Christian  man, 
not  doubting.  Now  will  I  lift  this  withered 
frame  that  once  held  mighty  soul,  and  bear 
it  to  the  cave  where  you  shall  fit  it  for  long 


I  78  UNGA  VA. 

journey  toward  the  grave  which  waits  its  com- 
ing at  Mistassinni.  For  there,  in  that  dread 
cave  where  all  his  fathers  sleep  and  where 
he  will  sleep  the  last  of  all  thus  chambered, 
must  this  old  frame  be  laid  :  that  cave 
whose  fame  fills  all  the  North,  whose  cav- 
erned  passages,  as  you  know,  are  filled  for- 
ever with  the  voices  and  the  murmurs  of  the 
dead. 

"  So  now,  old  friend,  on  back  of  him  who 
keepeth  word  and  bond,  from  thy  last  field 
and  fray  thou  shalt  be  borne.  A  heavier  bur- 
den I  have  often  carried,  but  never  sadder. 
Ah  me !  ah  me !  the  dead  grow  fast  and 
friends  grow  few  as  life's  swift  days  fly  on ! 
The  Queen  died  on  my  breast.  The  Chief 
is  dead.  At  Mamelons  my  sweet  love  sleeps. 
And  now  full  half  a  thousand  miles  I  go  with 


UNGAVA.  179 

him  who  made  her  grave,  to  his  own  grave 
at  Mistassinni.  Ungava,  white  of  face  but 
dark  of  soul,  die  not,  lest  out  of  that  old 
cave  in  the  Great  Rock  I  shall  come  forth 
into  an  empty  world." 

Then  tenderly  the  empty  frame  which  once 
held  mighty  soul  he  lifted  on  his  shoulders 
broad,  and,  casting  one  long  look  across  the 
field  whose  fame  would  be  his  own  till  all 
the  tribes  died  out,  he  went  up  toward  the 
Conjurer's  cave  which  stood  on  the  high  cliff 
at  whose  worn  base  the  great  tides  rush  and 
roar.  Him  toiling  on,  Ungava  followed,  white 
of  face  but  dark  of  soul,  whose  birth  was  out 
of  mystery  and  under  doom ;  whose  magic 
was  the  wonder  of  the  North ;  whose  voice 
the  dead  obeyed  ;  whose  touch  might  heal 
or  kill ;  whose  serpent  wand  of  gold  was  like 


l8o  UNGAVA. 

that  rod  that  Aaron  cast  at  Egypt's  feet ;  and 
with    her   in    the    cave    he    left  the  dead,  that 

she,     with    strange     preserving     force,     might 

n 

make  it  fit   for   distant  journey  to  its  distant 
grave. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

THE  FAIRIES'  FAREWELL  TO  UNGAVA. 

"  ^P  RAPPER,  behold  the  whiteness  of  the 
world.  How  still  it  lies,  like  angel 
sleeping  on  a  couch  of  down  plucked  from 
the  white  swan's  breast.  See  how  the  moon 
wheels  up  her  rounded  orb  from  out  the 
eastern  sea,  which  whitens  at  her  touch  to 
her  own  beauty.  The  waves  roll  pearly  pale 
and  fling  their  spray  in  silvery  showers  far 
up  the  gleaming  cliffs.  The  snow  is  whiter 
as  her  beams  fall  on  it,  and  yonder  icy 
islands  shine  like  mirrors  as  they  meet  her 
face  turned  full  upon  them.  All  things  are 
seen  in  distance,  softly  dim  as  some  loved 

181 


1 82  UNGAVA. 

face  that  gazes  at  us  in  our  dreams,  through 
the  gauze  curtains  which  hang  but  for  an 
hour  between  us,  dreaming,  and  the  spirit 
world ;  soon  to  be  softly  drawn  aside  for  our 
own  entrance  within  that  peaceful  realm 
where  wait  the  angels,  once  our  friends. 
Hark !  to  the  low,  soft  note  of  mother-seals 
calling  with  sweet  interrogation  to  their 

* 

babes,  safely  sleeping  in  the  crystal  crevices 
of  the  ice.  Was  ever  scene  more  peaceful  ? " 
"  It  is,  indeed,  a  peaceful  scene,  Ungava," 
replied  the  Trapper,  "but  barren  to  the  eye 
of  one  who  loves  the  stir  of  life,  the  motion 
of  the  world's  activity,  the  busy  hum  of 
going  and  of  coming,  and  the  glow  of  human 
happiness.  If  one  could  people  this  pale 
realm  with  buoyant  motion  ;  set  this  still  air 
to  music  and  make  the  moonlight  dance, 


UNGAVA.  183 

then  might  he  say  in  truth  it  were  a  perfect 
world  produced  by  magic." 

"  O,  thou  of  blinded  eyes ! "  Ungava 
cried.  "  I  did  forget  thou  could'st  not  see, 
save  as  the  orbed  sentinels  on  guard  beneath 
the  arches  of  thy  beetling  brows  imperfectly 
report  to  thee.  What,  then,  if  I  should  give 
thee  sight  which  brings  the  unseen  world  with- 
in my  vision,  and  thou  should'st  see  the  Fairies, 
Sprites,  and  Elves,  the  Gnomes  and  Witches, 
which  people  all  this  winter  world,  above, 
around,  and  underneath  us,  with  frolic  and 
with  pleasure,  as  they  hold  nightly  festival. 
Would  such  a  sight  please  thee  ? " 

"  Thou  art  in  joking  mood,"  returned  the 
Trapper,  smiling.  "  There  are  no  Fairies  in 
the  world  ;  that  is  the  faith  of  children." 

"  Children    are   wiser   than    the    older   folk, 


1 84  UNGAVA. 

John  Norton,"  returned  Ungava,  seriously. 
"They  come  as  spirits  out  of  spirit-land, 
and,  taking  forms  of  flesh,  are  subject  to  its 
limitations.  O  Trapper,  this  earthly  form 
in  which  we  live,  is  but  imprisonment ;  bond- 
age to  eyes  which  otherwise  might  see,  and 
mask  to  our  real  faces.  Through  flesh  we 
only  show  ourselves  in  glimpses.  And  the 
fond  faith  of  children  in  the  marvellous,  to 
which  they  cling,  is  but  the  struggling  of 
their  souls  against  forgetfulness  of  that  bright, 
animated  world  from  which  they  came. 
And  those  who  laugh  at  them,  because  of 
their  sweet  credence,  are  like  those  blinded 
ones  —  the  Gnomes  of  under-earth  —  who, 
born  in  blindness,  beyond  the  reach  of  light, 
laugh  at  our  stories  of  the  sun,  and  smile  at 
us  who  do  put  faith  in  stars.  Would'st  thoti 


UNGAVA.  185 

have  eyes  for  once,  O  Trapper,  and  see 
what  thou  do'st  laugh  at  ? " 

"  My  eyes  are  fairly  good,"  replied  he, 
laughingly.  "But  if  thou  can'st  give' bet- 
ter to  me,  then,  let  them  come,  Ungava." 

"  Nay,  nay,  thou  sceptic,"  answered  she, 
"  I  may  not  give  thee  eyes  to  see  what  is 
beyond  thy  ken  at  present ;  but  I  can  com- 
mand the  spirits  of  the  earth  and  air  to  take 
such  form  as  shall  upon  the  lenses  of  thine 
eyes  cast  full  reflection,  and  so  become  ob- 
jective to  thy  senses.  They  are  compliant  to 
me.  Shall  I  call?" 

"  Aye,  call,  Ungava,  call.  If  childhood's 
faith  in  spirits  by  any  chance  be  real,  I 
would  be  child  again,"  he  answered,  smiling. 

Then,  as  she  stood,  Ungava  lifted  wand, 
and  suddenly  around  the  two  there  grew  a 


1 86  UNGAVA. 

light  far  whiter  than  the  moon.  It  came  as 
dawn  and  day  would  come  which  had  no 
flush  of  color.  So  came  it  round  them  as 
they  stood  upon  the  cliff  above  the  lighted 
sea  which  darkened  with  the  contrast.  So 
standing  in  the  whiteness,  Ungava  called : 

"  Come,  Spirit   and    Sprite, 

Come  laughing   and   dancing ; 
Come   out    of   the    night, 

To  this    white    light   come   glancing. 
Come,  Elfin    and    Fairy; 

I    form   ring   of   magic ; 
Come    sing   us    some   song, 

Come   dance   us   some    dances. 

"  Come   from    sea  and   from   land, 

From   deep    earth    and   high    heaven, 
See,  I    lift   now    my   hand, 
The    signal    is   given. 


UNGAVA.  187 

From    the    fires    of   the   North, 

From  the   foam    of   the   sea, 
From   your  caves    now  come   forth 

And   appear   unto   me !  " 

Then,  slowly,  from  a  mound  of  snow  that 
lifted  dome  of  whiteness  near  to  where  they 
stood,  a  form  of  beauty  did  arise,  clothed  in 
soft  vestments  woven  from  whitest  fleece  and 
edged  with  fur  of  ermine.  So  into  sight  she 
rose,  and  with  her  other  ones  of  equal  beauty 
came  and,  standing  in  the  brilliance,  sang : 

I. 

"  I    am    Queen   of    the    Snow,    of   the   pure   white 

snow. 

I    eddy  and    circle   and   whirl    as    I   go. 
I    am    Child    of    the    Frost.       I    am    born    above 

mountains  ; 
I   mantle   the   forest ;   I   cover   the    fountains. 


1 88  UNGAVA. 

I  waver  and   fall,  I    stream    and    I    flow, 
With    the    currents    of    wind.       I    am    beautiful 
snow ! 

CHORUS. 

"  She   is    Queen   of   the    Snow,  of   the   pure  white 

snow. 

We   flakes  are  her  subjects  :   we  whirl  as  we  go  ; 
We   eddy  and    circle ;   we    stream    and   we    flow. 
She   is    Child    of    the    Frost.       She   is    beautiful 

snow  ! 

II. 

"  When  flowers  are  all  withered,  and  their  fra- 
grance is  fled  ; 

When  the  wild  grape  is  fallen,  and  the  green 
leaf  is  dead ; 

When  out  of  the  forest  the  song-birds  are 
flown, 

And  the  harvest  is  reaped  from  the  seed  that 
was  sown ; 


UNGAVA.  189 

.Then,  then,  from  the  sky  to  the  earth  far  below 
I  come   down   in   mercy.      I   am    beautiful    snow. 

CHORUS. 

"  When    flowers    are    all    withered,   and    their   fra- 
grance   is    fled  ; 
When    the    wild    grape    is   fallen,    and   the   green 

leaf   is    dead ; 

Then,  then,  from  the  sky  to  the  earth  far  below 
She    comes    down    in    mercy.      She   is   beautiful 
snow !  " 

So  sang  the  elfin  ones  and  vanished,  and 
the  white  silence  softly  lay  unoccupied  on 
cliff  and  sea  and  shingled  shore. 

"  Call  yet  again,"  the  Trapper  cried.  "  Call 
yet  again,  Ungava ;  for  never  yet  did  mortal 
eyes  see  sight  so  sweet,  or  mortal  ears  hear 
sweeter  song." 


190  UNGAVA. 

Then  lifted  she  her  wand  once  more,  and 
waved  it  to  and  fro  as  one  who  beckoning 
calls.  And  as  the  wand  in  easy  circles 
moved,  she,  smiling,  sang : 

"  Come,  lily  so  white, 
Come    out    of   the   night 
Come,  rose-tree    so    red, 
Bring   wreath   for  my  head. 
Let   the   odor  of   hill, 

Let   the   flower  of   the  street, 
Let   the    Spirits  of   bloom 
Gather  here   to    my  feet." 

Then,  even  as  she  sang,  out  of  the  earth 
there  slowly  rose  a  soft  green  lobe  of  mon- 
strous size,  and  opening,  lo !  The  Spirit  of 
the  Lilies,  in  its  yellow  heart  stood  forth 
revealed,  —  then  sang : 


UNGAVA. 


191 


I. 

"Have   you   breathed   me    by   night,    when  on  the 

still  air 
Came   the  song  of   the  lute,  came  the  murmur  of 


prayer 


Have  you  breathed  me  at  morn,  when  the  odor- 
ous trees 

Were  thrilled  from  their  sleep  by  the  kiss  of  the 
breeze  ? 

Have  you  breathed  me  when  mingled  with  mine 
was  the  breath 

Of  the  woman  you  loved,  and  must  love  till 
death, 

As  her  lips  clung  to  yours,  their  caress  to  bestow, 

While    I    lifted  and  sank  on  her  bosom  of   snow  ? 

If  you  have,  then  you  know  that  no  other  such 
bloom 

Blows  for  man  or  for  woman  'twixt  cradle  and 
tomb. 


1 92  UNGAVA. 

II. 

"  Oh,    for    love    and    for    lovers    my   perfume    is 

shed. 
I    am    flower   of    the    living,    I    am    flower   of    the 

dead. 
At    the    feasts    of    the    rich,    by    the    lovely    and 

fair, 
I    am   grouped    in    the    cups,    I    am    twined    in  the 

hair. 
By   the  hand  of   the  groom,  ere  he   sleeps  by  her 

side, 
My   white   leaves   are  sown   on    the    couch  of    the 

bride. 

And    if   she   be   taken,   on    the   door  of  her  tomb, 
As    a   sign    and    a   symbol,  he    chisels    my  bloom. 
Oh,  for  love  and   for   lovers,  not    since    the    sweet 

air 
Has    been    breathed   with    their   sighs    has    there 

been   flower  so   fair. 


UNGAVA.  193 

III. 

"  I  am  old  as  the  world.     When  the  Stars  of   the 

morn 

Sang  together  for  joy,  for  their  joy  I  was   born. 
In    the    dawn   of    the    world,    when    women   were 

given 
In  their   sweetness    to   men,   I  was   dropped  down 

from  heaven, 
To   be   charm   for  their  charms,  and  a  potion,  for 

never 

Did   a   lover  love  once,   and   not   love   forever, 
The    woman    that    wore    me    on    her    bosom    the 

night 

When    he    knelt    at  her    feet    in    love's    wild    de- 
light. 
Oh,  for  love   and   for  lovers,   not   since   the  sweet 

air 
Has    been    breathed   with    their   sighs    has    there 

been   flower  so  fair. 


194  UNGAVA. 

IV. 

"  When  the  Sons  of  God  chose  from  the  daughters 

of  men 
The    sweetest    and    fairest    to   be    wives   to   them, 

then 
Thy  race  did  begin.     When    thy  first   mother  was 

wed, 
The   stars  were   made  floral  to  be  wreath  for  her 

head. 
Since    then    I    have    come,    both    for    bridal    and 

bier, 
When   wand    has    been    lifted,    or    song    sung    to 

appear. 

Ungava,    Ungava,  am    I    needed   as   breath 
In  the  sweetness  of  life,  or  the  faintness  of  death? 
Oh,  tell  me,  for  ne'er  since  thy  race  breathed  the 

air 
For   love   and   for   lovers    has    there    been    flower 

so  fair." 


UNGAVA.  195 

Then  silence ;  and  in  it  lingered  long  the 
dying  strain,  sinking  as  sinks  at  death,  per- 
haps, our  memory  of  other  days,  which  we 
in  dying  leave  regretfully,  so  sweet  they  were 
to  us  in  living,  filled  to  the  brim  like  jocund 
cup  with  wit  and  laughter  and  love's  sweet 
wine.  Then,  strangest  sight  that  magic 
ever  gave  to  wondering  mortals,  —  around 
the  two,  on  that  high  cliff,  there  spread  a 
lawn  of  emerald,  dewy  and  fresh,  in 
which  were  floral  mounds  and  clumps  of 
roses  whose  wealth  of  bloom  weighed  the 
strong  bushes  down  ;  and  hedges  fenced  it 
in  whose  every  twig  was  odorous,  and 
every  bush  and  bloom  and  leaf  was  vital. 
For  from  this  forest  sweet  a  group  of  fairy, 
elfin  forms,  each  garlanded  with  her  own 
flower,  came  gliding  forth  and  made  obe- 


UNGAVA. 

dience    to    Ungava.       Then,    standing   round 

her,  sang: 

I. 

"Queen    of   our   hearts,    by    stream    and    hill, 
We    heard    thy    magic    summons    thrill. 
Queen    of  our  hearts,   in    bower  and    hall, 
We   caught   the    sweetness   of  thy   call. 
From    Southern    pool    and    stream   afar, 
We,   guided    by  the    Northern    Star, 
Have   come   our  homage   here   to   give,  — 
For  thee  we   live  !     For  thee  we   live  ! 

II. 

"  Last  of   that   race,  whose   bridal   morn 
Was    ushered    in   when  we   were    born  ; 
Last   of   that   race    to   which  we   gave, 
To   sweeten    bridal   bed   and   grave, 
Our  sweetest    breath,   our  fullest    bloom ; 
And    laid    on    cradle    and    on    tomb, 
The    richest    offering  we    could   wreathe,  - 
For  thee  we   breathe !     For  thee  we  breathe  ! 


UNGAVA.  197 

III. 

"  Last    of   thy   race !   thy  eyes   of   night 
Hold    in    their   depths    the   farther  sight. 
We    are    of    earth,   and    may   not   know 
The   feeling    in    thy  breast    of   snow. 
We  wait    thy  will.     We   do   not   dare 
To    crown   thy   head,   to  wreath   thy  hair, 
Nor  garland   waist  with    bridal    zone. 
Still    do  we   live   for  thee   alone. 

IV. 

"  Last    of   thy  race  !    perchance    'twill   be, 
That  we    thy  face   no   more   shall   see. 
At    Mamelons,    on   breast    of   snow, 
A    snow-white    lily  lieth    low ; 
There    on    that    dreadful    hill    of   fate 
Sweet    Atla   saw  her  morning  break ; 
But    know,   in    life    or  death,  that  we 
Still   breathe  for  thee!     Still  breathe  for  thee!" 


1 98  UNGA  VA. 

Then  died  the  tender  strain,  and  singers 
faded  with  the  song,  and  once  again  the 
white  silence  softly  lay  unoccupied  on  cliff 
and  sea  and  shingled  shore.  Then  she,  as 
waking  out  of  trance,  raised  eyes  of  tender 
gloom  to  his  and  said : 

"Trapper,  behold  the  sky!  What  eye 
may  count  the  stars  which  to  the  thought- 
ful soul  do  punctuate  its  spaces  with  interro- 
gations ?  Can'st  thou  believe  that  all  those 
shining  points  which  powder  it  with  golden 
dust  are  worlds,  inhabited  like  ours  ?  See 
how  the  o'erarching  dome  is  all  bespangled 
with  fretted  fire.  What  noble  roofment  has 
this  little  earth  thus  canopied  with  glory ! 
Tell  me  hast  thou  'a  star  in  yonder  sky 
which  thou  do'st  call  thy  own  ?  A  star  linked 
with  a  loved  one's  face  ? " 


UNGAVA.  199 

"  Nay,  nay,  I  am  not  fanciful,  Ungava.  I 
am  a  plain,  blunt  man.  I  know  my  friends. 
My  foes  know  me.  My  loves  are  simple.  I 
am  a  man  of  fact,  not  fancy.  I  eat  my  food. 
I  quench  my  thirst.  I  love  my  friend.  I  hate 
my  foe.  Word  and  bond  keep  I  unto  death. 
The  rest  I  leave  to  God." 

"  But,  Trapper,  lift  thou  thine  eyes  again. 
Select  some  star,  distant  or  nigh,  and  to  it 
link  a  name  —  the  name  of  her  thou  lovest 
over  all.  Let  its  bright  ray  be  to  thine  eyes 
a  face,  and  tell  me  of  her.  I  would  know 
the  woman  thou  do'st  love." 

"The  woman  I  do  love,  Ungava,  lives  not 
in  any  star.  She  lives  —  I  know  not  where. 
I  know  not  where  to  find  her  when  I  die.  I 
only  know  she  loves  me  with  a  queenly  love ; 
and  when  my  eye  grows  dim  and  all  the 


200  UNGA  VA. 

trail  fades  out,  I  trust  her  faithful  hand  will 
guide  me  on.  I  know  no  further,  and  I  have 
no  further  hope." 

"  But,  Trapper,  if  thy  love  is  dead  and 
gone  —  forever  gone  —  and  where  she  is  thou 
knowest  not,  nor  how  to  find  her,  nor 
whether  you  and  she  shall  ever  meet.  If  all 
is  dim,  uncertain,  dubious,  —  then  thou  can'st 
surely  love  some  other  one  —  some  fair,  sweet 
one,  who  should  give  all  her  soul  to  thee ; 
be  comfort  to  thy  days,  and  to  thy  face  lift 
eyes  of  worship  because  to  her  thou  art  as 
God." 

Then   said  the  Trapper,   gravely : 

"  Ungava,    of    little    loves    man    may    have 

many,  born  of  his  vagrant  moods  or  transient 

passions ;  for  man  is  as  the  earth,  and   out  of 

him,  prolific,  spring  many  growths,  some  sweet, 


UNGAVA.  201 

some  foul,  which,  whether  sweet  or  foul,  are 
only  of  a  day,  and  die.  But  one  great  love, 
and  only  one,  may  be  to  man  who  stands 
large  natured  and  with  powers  too  strong  to 
die.  Such  love  is  central  to  him.  Rooted  in 
his  soul  it  lives  with  it  forever,  and  all  the 
sweetness  and  the  strength  of  him  are  in 
it  as  the  sap  is  in  the  tree.  So  flower  and 
fruit  come  from  it,  and  such  high  ornament 
as  make  him  glorious  evermore.  Such  love 
did  come  to  me,  and  in  my  soul  I  feel  it 
growing  more  and  more.  One  love  I  have, 
and  only  one.  Another  one  I  may  not  have, 
nor  wish.  It  fills  me  as  a  cup  is  filled  with 
water  when  its  brim  is  wet.  I  drink  of  it, 
and,  drinking  the  sweet  draught,  I  thirst 
not,  and  I  need  no  more." 

And  as  he  spake,   yea,   as   the  words  were 


202  UNGA  VA. 

on  his  lips,  across  the  moon  there  grew  a 
cloud,  and.  darkened  all  the  world.  Black 
grew  the  sea,  and  heaving  without  cause 
from  out  the  darkness  came  a  moan,  and  a 
great  wrave  rode  in  upon  the  darkness,  and 
underneath  the  cliff  broke  with  a  fall  that 
shook  it ;  then,  silence. 

Then  said  Ungava,  speaking  softly  in  the 
gloom : 

"  Trapper,  thy  heart  is  fixed,  and  fixed 
too  is  my  fate.  Within  the  cave  for  seven 
days  will  I  do  solemn  service.  Then  enter 
in,  and  thou  shalt  find  him  ready  for  the 
trail  by  which  his  body  thou  shalt  bring  to 
Mistassinni.  There  wilt  thou  find  me  by  the 
cave  that  none  may  enter.  There,  with  the 
mighty  of  his  race  and  mine,  shall  he  find 
sepulture.  I  would  not  change  thy  stead- 


UNGA  VA.  203 

fast  soul.  It  is  enough  for  me  as  woman 
to  have  known  thee  and  have  loved.  Thou 
art  of  ancient  time.  To  word  and  bond, 
and  nobler  yet  to  love,  living  or  dead,  thy 
soul  holds  true.  Long  is  the  trail,  but  heart 
of  truth  makes  tireless  foot.  Once  more  at 
Mistassinni  we  must  meet.  There  shall  we 
come  to  fate  and  its  sad  end.  There  shall 
we  make  last  parting ;  and  such  parting  will 
it  be  as  never  on  this  earth  was  made  before ! 
So  fare  thee  well." 

So  said  she,  and  then  vanished.  Then 
the  cloud  passed,  the  moon  came  forth,  and 
on  the  crest  of  that  high  rock  above  the 
sleeping  sea,  he  stood  alone,  while  the  white 
silence  once  more  softly  lay  unoccupied  on 
cliff  and  sea  and  shingled  shore.  And  as  he 
through  the  solemn  silence  slowly  downward 


204  UNGA  VA. 

went  he  murmured  to  himself:  "Die  not, 
Ungava,  lest  from  that  cave  in  the  Great 
Rock  I  shall  come  forth  into  an  empty  world. 
Alas !  Alas !  I  would  my  feet  might  never 
tread  the  trail  that  leads  to  Mistassinni." 


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